Chapter 11
eleven
. . .
“Hey, have you heard about Micah and Alec’s breakup?” Ciara asks, a week later, as she drops into the seat beside me. Her braids are unbound today in long black waves.
Tate chuckles, lounging back in his chair. “I heard it was an epic fight. Shame I missed it,” he sighs. “Honestly, we could use some more excitement around here. It’s been a little dull lately.”
The two of them share a conspiratorial glance before she leans in, filling me in on the juicy details of the latest scandal. “You won’t believe it! Turns out Micah was involved with another guy from Specials. Plot twist!” Her face lights up with amusement that I don’t share. Yikes.
“Alright, everyone, let’s settle down,” Professor Maleka calls out, her voice strained as she strolls in, looking like she didn’t sleep a wink last night.
Her tall frame is wrapped in a cozy brown sweater.
Purple smudges frame her usually bright green eyes, now dull and almost gray.
Her typically curly hair looks untamed and wild, pulled back into a knot at the top of her head.
“Today, we are discussing the Ancestor Isles on Demeter. Which, for those of you who don’t know your planets…
” She frowns around the room as if to tell everyone how disappointed she is.
“It’s one of Okenen’s, a planet rich with history and culture.
” With a flick of her hand, she activates a fresh projection on the board behind her, illuminating images and maps of the Isles.
The vibrant colors and intricate details of the illustrations ignite my curiosity.
Professor Maleka tries to stifle a yawn before continuing, “The Ancestor Isles claim to be one of the oldest cultures in our system, with a bloodline that traces back to the original people with a pure genetic line. To this day,” she pulls up a map of the islands, “no outsiders can reside on the Isles, but they’re open to trading and visiting Benek, the nearest city in the Opus Colony, to share their culture. ”
I pull out my tablet and begin taking notes.
I’ve heard whispers about the Isles, but I’ve never been allowed to study them until now.
The knowledge of these Isles is safeguarded, and even the Isles themselves are shielded from boats due to the turbulent currents surrounding them like a magical barrier.
The islanders have a unique way of navigating the waters using a water creature about the size of a small transport pod. What I find truly fascinating is that only the locals can communicate with this animal, leaving scientists stumped as they attempt to study it.
The projection changes to a photo of the main island. “The main island, Elingra, serves as the hub for their small governing body,” Professor Maleka shares.
“Have you ever seen them?” Tate leans in, eyes wide with curiosity.
I shake my head, keeping my eyes trained on the board.
Throughout our Ethnography lecture, we learn that every islander speaks their native language, while only a handful of their mini-government officials understand the common tongue.
This communication barrier presents its own challenges for the crown, especially since the common language and technology are prohibited on the islands.
The hairs on my arms rise as old photos of the islanders pop up.
They aren’t what I expected. The islanders are taller than all the visitors, with their skin in various shades of bronze and deep brown, long, wavy hair for both men and women, and dressed in makeshift clothes made from leaves and hides.
Their faces are all painted with white paint in symbols that nobody has been able to translate.
They remind me of the symbols and inscriptions carved into the stone in Ayallenora—an ancient village on my home planet. This place, these people, hold secrets.
By the end of class, we are given an assignment to investigate one of the customs on the Ancestor Isles and present it to the class next week. As we shuffle out of class, Beric, a boy who’s been harassing me and starting rumors, corners me.
When he grips my wrist, I turn, pushing against his chest. “Don’t touch me,” I hiss, attempting not to make a scene and failing.
He chuckles. “My boys and I were talking—why don’t you come to a party we’re having in the woods this weekend? We’ll have some fun.” His grimy eyes slide over me. I’m about to shove him off when Anders’ hand wraps around Beric’s wrist, twisting it with a sickening crunch.
Beric shrieks in protest, but Anders leans in and, in a murderously calm voice, says, “I suggest you remove your hand.” Beric is glaring at Anders, surely about to spew something when Anders says, “If I ever see you lay a hand on her again, I’ll have you stripped of your titles, sent to a moon.
Your family will be sent to live with the commoners, and that will be the kindest punishment I’m willing to consider.
” The color drains from Beric’s face. I’d really like to get out from between them, but Anders has me trapped, his front pressed into my back.
Beric glances down at me and mutters an apology before storming out of the now-empty classroom. “Was that necessary?” I spin to face Anders.
He shrugs. “He shouldn’t touch what isn’t his.”
I scoff, rolling my eyes, but I’ll never admit that I kind of like this side of him. Something about him playing the role of dark prince has my toes curling, especially when those piercing blue eyes meet mine.
“We need to talk,” he says quietly as I approach him.
I nod and continue toward my next class, ignoring how I long to throw myself into his arms and forgive him. I’m lying to myself that I don’t desire to feel his arms wrap around me while I bury my face into his chest and breathe in the scent that drowns me in feelings of need and want.
“Sure. After class?” He deposits me safely into the combat class, lingering at the door like he wants to say more, but when I lift a brow, he sighs and disappears without another word, leaving me feeling a little breathless and off-kilter.
I’m thrilled when Professor Ainslyn sends me to the simulator for Hallo gun practice. I see it as an outlet to calm my racing thoughts and sharpen my focus—something I desperately need right now.
After checking out a practice gun from the attendant, I head into the simulator.
The weapon has a sleek design and is lightweight, even for me.
The cool grip fits perfectly into my hands.
I make my way to the center of the spacious, dimly lit room, letting the anticipation build within me.
The projection rays embedded in the walls flicker to life, casting an ethereal glow that sets my first simulation in motion.
On my left, a long, glass wall darkens and is blessedly vacant.
To my right, a cushioned wall provides a soft barrier should I need it.
Behind me, the operator’s voice breaks through my thoughts, preparing me for the start of the trial.
I take a moment to nod. Inhaling deeply, I close my eyes and center myself.
Kuron and Ezra have always told me during training that my emotions could get me killed. They’ve been relentless in honing not only my skills with my daggers but also my mind. They’ve taught me how to harness and channel my emotions for whatever situation.
With my mind blissfully empty of doubts and emotions, I open my eyes with a clear determination.
Holographic opponents and creatures spring to life from projected walls, trees, and buildings surrounding me in the landscape.
It takes a moment to gather my bearings, but once I do, I make quick work of taking down the human simulations first, thankful they’re masked. Next, the system’s predatory creatures.
I find myself holding my breath when the onyx leopard leaps into view, its sea green eyes and shimmering, iridescent scales adorning its head, shoulders, and parts of its face, illuminating in the dark. I never know whether I’m terrified or amazed by these creatures.
Despite their lethal intelligence, they’re beautiful.
Their scales resemble glitter, with vibrant hues of emerald green, sapphire blue, and amethyst purple, catching the light like a constellation of tiny jewels embedded in their fur.
It’s always a part of my simulations and one of the hardest to take down.
The creature pacing before me is an exact replica of the animal found on Neptyn and Kyrr.
Above me, it growls, baring terrifying rows of razor-sharp teeth that could shred anyone or anything in an instant. It reminds me to calm my racing heart and pay attention.
I focus on the leopard as it confidently prowls back and forth atop a towering boulder.
The way it watches me draws up more adrenaline as I lie in wait, watching for the subtle moment just before it will take the leap.
In one heartbeat, the cat pauses; the next, he launches into the air, claws out, and ready for an attack.
I fire off two shots directly to his heart just before throwing my arms over my head, waiting for a weight that will never come.
I learned that the hard way, the first time I was attacked by an onyx leopard, the only way to kill it is to go for the heart.
The last time I was attacked, I fell to my back and screamed like I was actually about to be eaten alive just before pulling the trigger.
That same adrenaline pulses through my body even now.
No matter how many times I run a simulation with it, I can’t convince my body it’s just a hologram.
The lights flash, signaling the conclusion of the simulation, but remain dimmed, casting the room in shadows. The hairs on my neck rise, and something tells me I have an audience in the darkened observation room.
Professor Ainslyn had alerted me earlier that I had been chosen to demonstrate the weapon to juniors taking the test. I take a moment to hydrate and gather my breath before heading back toward the platform.