Prologue:
1
Carina Korhil
It’s not the end of the world… but you can see it from here.
The strange thought ghosted across my mind, but it was… fitting.
There is a tear across the sky. A pitch-black scar over the blue. One can only barely see it at night; the wrong, out of place object amongst the stars.
But during the day, it’s impossible to miss.
In the mornings, the line was thick, like a calligraphy brush painted over the grey oncoming sun, while high noon made it thin like a fine pencil had been traced across the heavens above.
But it was during these hours now, at dusk, when the orange blazed with the faint tinge of purple and the sun was a fireball dipping beneath the horizon that the black scar grew and grew again. Like a gaping maw that would swallow the world whole. Its edges were red, almost bleeding wispy tendrils into the ether.
It has many names on many worlds.
On this one, we call it The Shroud.
Even with the calamity it’s brought, it is beautiful to look at.
Call it morbidity, or perhaps queer fascination, but I find I enjoy peering into its inky blackness.
Most would call that strange, most people I know of don’t even like looking at it. It makes them uncomfortable, like staring at a deformity, an ugly blemish on fair skin, warping the beauty around it.
But it's been there as long as I can remember. The damage it’s caused won’t fix itself by ignoring it.
Pretending it doesn’t exist just seems… a waste.
“Mistress Carina.”
The voice was close when I turned. I must’ve been lost in thought to not hear her footsteps sooner.
“Neira!” I didn't shout, but my voice rose just a bit with delight, my lips quirked upwards as I turned to face my friend.
She smiled back, green eyes shining with joy as her hands raised out to grasp mine before we embraced.
Though I was taller than some young women my age, compared to me, Neira seemed particularly small, the top of her head barely reaching my chin. Adding to the contrast between us was our skin tone, my darker coloring making her paleness stand out all the more. Her hair was a sunkissed straw while mine was raven black.
“You’ve been missed,” I confessed. “I hadn’t expected you to return for at least another week at the earliest.”
My handmaiden pulled away from the embrace. “Father was occupied,” she said by way of explanation. “So I cut my visit slightly short; no sense wasting time in the estate when you perhaps had need of me here.”
I shook my head. “It’s alright if you wished to spend time with him.”
“It’s no trouble,” she assured. “Besides, there’s been word of the happenings here and it concerned me.”
I understood what she meant, and her words brought a small frown to my face. “Truthfully, things have been quiet,” I answered. “At least for me, I know Grandfather has been seeing many of his advisers in the last week, which means that something is happening, even if I haven’t quite been made privy to what exactly it is yet. What have you heard and from whom?”
“General gossip.” Neira said as we began to descend the hill along the stone path, our arms winding together as we spoke. “Though, none of it was good news. The houses of Repanse and Argave are supposedly gathering military forces.”
“Hmm.” I had heard the same, but I’d hoped that it’d been more of the court’s tendency to exaggerate—if rumors were circulating around Isa, then Grandfather’s meetings and recent urgency made quite a bit more sense.
As we reached the primary path leading back to the estate, Doval, the headman servant, made his way closer to us. His servant’s suit, black and white, contrasted sharply against the splashes of red, yellow, and greens of the gardens around us.
I found it in myself to smile, though I tried perhaps to convey something of an apology in the expression. “Doval, did you climb all this way for me?”
The old majordomo bowed, and I could almost hear the bones in his spine protesting the movement. “Evening approaches, Lady Korhil.” He offered a nod towards Neira. “Lady Pelegos.”
The small blonde beside me offered the faintest of bows before Doval turned his eyes back to me.
“Your grandfather requests your presence for tonight’s dinner, milady,” he said.
Oh. “He’s freed up some time then?” I asked, though it was more akin to thinking aloud. He’d been occupied for the last few weeks; he’d been taking dinner in his office, if he took it at all.
“Indeed.” Doval offered his arm, and Neira and I shared the smallest of smiles as I unwound my arm from hers and took up his in her place. Doval would never say anything, but the old man was set in his ways regarding proper etiquette and would be all in a huff if he let it be said he walked with the lady of the house and left her “unescorted.”
Stepping closer, I allowed the older man to “lead” me, though in truth, I half feared him slipping over the damp cobblestones as much as I wished to avoid his irritation if I’d declined his invitation.
Ahead of us was Korhil manor; the seat of my family and the governing house of the world loomed like a small mountain.
The estate was enormous. Functioning as both a home and the seat of the planetary government, it had been built upon and expanded over the centuries since the first colonization. At the foot of the hill lay the original estate, now merely an entry hall and servant quarters, leading towards the guard barracks, what had once been the branch family residences, and finally the manor itself, resting atop the rolling hillside like a crown resting on a brow.
Great walls wrought in white stone fenced in the grounds of the estate on all sides, repulsor fields hidden within their surface to prevent any from climbing or otherwise bypassing the main entrance.
The architecture, I’d learned in my classes, was derived from ancient styles of Old Earth for the original buildings, Greco-Roman as it was called. Columns, wide open spaces, and such. The manor proper, a towering three-winged estate, was a hybrid, or so I was informed, though I could see elements of the Greco-Roman style of the original structures. Sharp angles and squat buildings had given way to swooping arches and circular walls.
Beyond my home itself, lying at the foot of the valley and spread out like a canvas across the land, was Kyrea, the capital city.
Much like my home, the city itself had grown and evolved over the millennia. Ancient simplistic buildings where the original settlers were more concerned with practicality than aesthetics were smaller, more compact structures. Bricks stacked atop each other for either residences or workspaces.
But as the years proceeded and the city grew more and more, so too did ideas until now, where one could see buildings shaped like spirals, roads placed with precision that dictated the layout of the city in its entirety when viewed from afar, homes of opaque glass or obsidian stone.
The spaceport was by far the largest single compound on the planet. It dominated the western horizon where great supply barges docked to deliver their payloads from orbit. Even now I could see more transport barges descending; a streak of fire cutting through the clouds.
Its shadow was large today.
Squinting, I looked upwards, towards the fiery false meteor.
Ah, one of the Garant class transports…
It was a monstrous thing rivaling what few capital class warships I’d seen in my life with its sheer bulk: four kilometers long, two high, and three across. They took whole days to load and unload.
Isa was a world blessed with three of them. So, one was always being filled to capacity or delivering supplies while another was being emptied.
“That one is empty…”
I turned, looking toward Doval. Apparently, my distraction had been noticed “Hmm? How can you tell?”
The older man had a slight smile, nothing more than a tilt of his lips, half hidden by his prodigious mustache. “The engines, milady. When supporting so much weight in gravity, the lift engines are pushed to their maximum output. They burn brighter and glow a white hot.”
I looked back to the descending ship.
As he said, the plume of red flame bursting out of the adjustable lift thrusters seemed dim, and the metal around them did not look as superheated as he’d described.
“A transport for food exports then,” I surmised. It was a statement, but I couldn’t help the slight note of questioning in my voice. If it was descending empty, it must’ve been to load up food to transport off world.
He nodded. “Most likely. It is still our primary export, last I looked, Lady Korhil,” he answered cheekily.
I halfheartedly slapped his shoulder, reaching the base of the hill. “I shall have you flogged at once for your insolent tone,” I said with an upturned nose and overly shrill voice.
My impression of Lady Remire was rather good. By my estimation at least.
“I’m sure I’m quite deserving of such. The court would be appalled by my lack of manners.” The mirth danced behind his eyes. Walking was now easier as we reached the safer ground of stone walkways and solid footing. I heard Neira stifling her own sound of amusement behind us.
A thought occurred to me. “You grew up near the spaceport, did you not?”
He nodded. “My mother was a portworker.”
Now that surprised me.
“Truly?” I tried to imagine it. Of course, women worked all manner of occupations across the planet, but a dockhand, loading and unloading cargo, just seemed so… brutish; not something I’d have associated with the mother of old, prim and proper Doval.
He nodded. “Indeed. I was constantly underfoot in my youth. She would hand me over to her co-workers while they were on break to keep me entertained and distracted. And of course, a curious child wants to poke and prod and question what everything does. I remember some things.”
“Did you learn much about starships? Or of the portwork?” I asked, genuinely curious.
He seemed to think for a moment. “I suppose more of the portwork. Their procedures, equipment, and, ahh… their unique vernacular.” There was a joke there I wasn’t quite grasping.
He coughed to cover up a laugh. “I know little of the inner workings of ships, and what I do know is what the men and women working at the starport would know. For example, if a Garant was full or empty. They would know that, you see, in order to determine whether they were preparing to load or unload before receiving their orders from the foreman.”
I nodded. Made sense.
As we reached one of the yard entrances to the manse, I noted something—a guard, wearing a crest of red and white over his shoulder. House Doksu.
“Lord Rahan is still here?” I asked.
“I believe he will be joining you and your grandfather for supper,” Doval said.
That was a surprise, and not a wholly unwelcome or unpleasant one, mind you.
Lord Rahan had always been a bit taciturn; He’d been friends with my father; and since father’s death, Grandfather’s closest supporter. Perhaps, my grandfather did see him as something of a second son.
The man was constantly serious, but that blunt, brutish personality hid a very sharp mind with a practical way of viewing the world that made for good conversation after getting past the “pulling teeth” stage, as Grandfather called it.
“I’m sure it’ll go splendidly then.” She smiled, allowing Doval to open the door for her and head inside.
Once within, Doval untangled himself from her arm, offering a formal bow at the waist. “If that is all, my lady Carina, I must see to my remaining duties.”
I nodded. “Of course, Doval.”
With another bow towards me and then a smaller one towards Neira, the majordomo turned and walked away.
I turned to Neira then. “You must be tired,” I noted. “You only just arrived, didn’t you?”
“I did,” she confessed. “But it’s no trouble. I’ll keep you company until supper, then I can go and relax while you and your grandfather busy yourselves.”
I fought the smile that twitched at my lips. “Oh. So remaining with me is some great chore, is it? You can only relax once you’ve left my presence.”
Her eyes widened, and her sputtering apology made me laugh.
AN- at the end of Prologue 2