by May Sage
She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever beheld, despite the scars. She had a few, none more noticeable than the raw and ugly one starting on her shoulder and running down her arm. She hadn’t covered it. Tattoos had been marked on her skin around it, as if to emphasize it. There was a jewel on her forehead, as bright as her eyes.
The female was heavily pregnant. With his children, he knew. Twins. He’d call them—
The child removed her hands from Kai, taking the vision away. He practically cried out, ready to beg for more. Just another second.
That was his future. And the child was going to take it all away. She was going to turn to the guards and tell them he was a threat. A mage, and a dangerous one at that.
Kai had never been as afraid.
«Please.»
He implored without shame, tears in his eyes.
The child turned away from him and started walking out. He had half a second to despair.
“He’s no one,” said she, lying smoothly, with a carefully feigned indifference. “Just a simple, irrelevant thief.”
Kai continued watching the child as her guards hurried to follow her. While someone tied his hands back toward the ceiling, still he watched her back. She left the cells without sending him one glance.
The child had lied through her teeth, he knew that. She knew that.
Because in the vision, he’d been wearing the warlord’s robes.
Five
Red Thread
Six years, three months, seven days. That’s how long Nalini had spent within these walls, locked in a golden prison.
She’d learned her place early. There were servants who prepared the best foods for each of her meals, and she never had to think of washing her own robes. There were music boxes left for her amusement. Books, so many books, even on long-forgotten or forbidden subjects. Her master wanted her knowledgeable.
Still, for all her privileges, she was at the bottom of the food chain. A mouse caged in with lions. They wanted her dead. All of them. Someday, they’d get their wish.
She was a clever, tricky little mouse, though. The tigers liked watching her. As long as she did what they wanted, pretending so very hard to be one of them, to belong to their ranks, they weren’t quite so willing to dispose of her. Her powers were too valuable.
So she played her part that day. Well. Very well.
She kept her face cold and expressionless. She didn’t smile. She didn’t even cry. She didn’t fall to her knees and ask why these burdens fell on her small shoulders.
Kai, he was called. Akai Lor, son of Hora. Bastard. Mage. Monster.
Someday, he’d burn this world down. He’d tear down the skies. The reach of his darkness was limitless.
No, that wasn’t quite right. If she’d only seen that, she would have killed him herself with one wave of her hand. She could, now. He wasn’t yet in control of his devastating powers.
She hadn’t even considered ending him, because there was so much more in Kai. An equal potential for good. He could, and even might, bring peace to their worlds, forever destroying the rift between mages and the other Evris. He was the key to their destruction, or their salvation. From her confusing waves of visions, each outcome seemed as likely right now. He hadn’t marked his fate in stone yet.
Ultimately, she’d decided it wasn’t up to her, a child who knew but little of these things, to dictate his fate. It all felt so much bigger than her.
There was another thing. A selfish motive. She was reluctant to admit it, even to herself.
Nalini Nova returned to her chambers and sat on her meditation mat, smiling to herself. He’d seen that, clearly visualizing her sitting, legs crossed, in this very room.
She closed her eyes and searched for an answer, exploring as much of the future, and the past, as her power allowed her to see. Nothing new, no magic answer, came to her, but now she’d taken a minute to think and calm down, her resolve was firm.
When she opened her eyes again, both were gold.
She closed her fists. In another part of the castle, down in the dungeon, Kai fell to the ground, his energy bonds undone. Nalini tilted her head. A click resounded as his cell opened. She then lifted her hand, focusing so hard, beads of sweat gathered on her forehead.
«The guards on your left are asleep», she told him.
Kai remained where he stood, eyes widened in surprise.
«I won’t hold this for long.»
Another second passed, then, deciding she wasn’t trying to trick him, he ran along the left corridor.
«Wait,» she said.
The recording devices set up to observe the palace worked continuously, but the screens of the guards in charge of watching them changed periodically.
«Now,» said she, when the guards started to monitor another area. «There are spare uniforms on your right. Take the plain green one.»
Janitor. No one would look twice at him in that get-up.
«You have two minutes. Get changed and take the service elevator down to the gardens. Look down. Good luck.»
She was reluctant to let go of the connection. Right when she was about to cut it, he said, «You’re a prisoner here.» It wasn’t a question, and she needn’t answer it.
«Come with me.»
She almost laughed. The warlord wouldn’t think much of an irrelevant thief breaking out of his dungeon, but if she disappeared? He’d burn down cities to find her.
«There’s a tracker inside me», she told him.
A pause. «I’ll come back, Kai replied. «I’ll come back and get you out of here. I owe you, little lady.»
This time, Nalini broke the link without a second of hesitation.
That he’d come back to Vratis someday was a fact. But would it be for her, or would it be to clench his insatiable thirst for power?
She knew exactly what had started that day. On her bookshelves behind her, a dozen books spoke of it. All of those were forbidden to common folks. The Wise had dictated that they should remain unaware of it, to avoid panic and confusion.
There was a reason why Evris killed those amongst them who displayed an aptitude for magic. There was a reason why she was watched and controlled. She needed to be. Her kind was dangerous. Her kind could bring an end to thousands of worlds. They almost did once.
A prophecy written twelve hundred years ago — back before the Evris had ever left Tejen, their original world — spoke of it happening again. It spoke of a mage of great power and great darkness, rising from the ashes, born in shame and who’d one day kill their Goddess Light.
It spoke of the evil lord who could create Starfire, the single most deadly energy source.
It spoke of a monster. And she’d just saved his life.
Nalini carried on moving her hands aimlessly, stretching and training her body. There was nothing strange in her actions. Those who would, no doubt, watch the recording closely after Kai’s escape wouldn’t find anything unusual.
Still, she’d be chastised. The warlord would demand to know why she hadn’t seen the escape. He would question her answers, wondering if she was quite as loyal as she seemed. He would tighten his grasp on her in the next years, until the ultimate, unavoidable climax.
Her own future was often clouded to her. She couldn’t see all of this quite clearly, but she could imagine it. She dreaded it. Yet, something in her whispered two words.
Worth it.
Even as she took her punishment later, she didn’t regret her actions.
The warlord loved his machines. His favorite one was the cage he locked her in. He sent pulses of energy through it, shocking her mind and body so hard she screamed.
Training, he called it. If she wasn’t strong enough to fight against an insignificant thief, no doubt she needed it.
Her instructions were simple. Resist it. Block it.
He had his men set the blasts to their highest strength that day. There was no resisting it. There was just pain, meant to break her body and her spirit.
She
took the pain in and remained unscratched where it mattered, those two words etched in her very psyche.
It had been worth it. If only to see Enlil’s world burn one day.
Six
Retrograde
Everything in Kai protested against his steps. Told him to turn back and go get the kid. The strange little lady might have gotten herself in some trouble when she chose to help him.
Such concern for a near stranger was quite uncharacteristic of him. He wasn’t what one would call selfless. But that child had changed something deep inside him. He couldn’t exactly figure out how.
He thought about her. Her ordeal in that cold palace, the way she’d had to grow up fast to survive. And, by extension, Kai considered the rest of his kind. Their kind.
There were mages in this world, the rest of the sector, and all around the galaxy. Mages who died chained up and left to the wolves. Others who reached adulthood, but had to constantly survive in fear and hide who they were, like him.
He’d always known that, but whenever he’d thought of any of them, he’d purposefully put it out of his mind. It wasn’t like he could do anything about them, right? Or so he’d told himself, before seeing a freaking child fight in the middle of their enemy’s home, in silence, without expecting any reward or recognition for her effort. Taking risks for no other reason than the fact that it was the right thing to do.
Kai turned away from the palace. Getting caught again in an attempt to break the girl out wasn’t a solution. It wouldn’t solve the core of the problem. He took the longest way back to his current hideout, as though purposefully wanting to pass through the poorest, dirtiest districts of Vratis, to convince himself he was making the right decision.
There was a boy too hungry to cry or beg, just sitting there with his hand outstretched. Kai didn’t have anything to give him. And whatever he could have spared wouldn’t have helped in the long run. Thus was their world. Golden palaces and famine living side by side, hand in hand.
By the time he’d made it to his ship, the Kai who’d run at nine years old and spent the second half of his life aimlessly traveling their sector, taking what he wanted, living without rules, was dead. Buried by the male he was always meant to become. Murdered by a little lady whose name he didn’t know yet.
A large beast jumped up to him, putting her paws on his shoulders, and flapping her tail. Sky.
“I’m alright, girl.”
The wolf inspected him herself, and licked his face before putting her front paws back on the floor, satisfied.
They walked side by side into the ship. As soon as they’d passed the trapdoor, his first and only partner greeted him with a grumble. “I heard you’d been snatched.”
Kai lifted a brow. “And yet, you’re still here, with my ship.”
Ian Krane was a grumpy old male. Kai’d ended up saddled with him because they’d attempted to steal the same ship a few years back.
“She’s mine,” Krane immediately protested.
“I am the person sitting in the captain’s chair. By definition, that makes it my ship.”
They had this particular argument on a weekly basis. Technically, the ship belonged to both of them. They’d shared everything equally since they’d teamed up, and they’d both put the money down to get this custom, modified beauty made for them.
“Only because these damn beasts don’t let me anywhere near it,” he replied. “Doesn’t change the fact that my name is on the papers.”
Krane did love to complain—about anything and everything. Especially the four other wolves now coming to greet Kai. Never mind the fact that the old male was, more often than not, stroking one of them right between the ears.
Kai smiled. If anyone had asked him, he would have said he put up with Ian Krane because most heists were easier to pull off with a partner, and flying the Zonian with a copilot made sense. But he might end up missing Krane, now that it was time to part ways.
“Listen, I’m gonna change direction a bit.” A lot. “I mean, we have plenty of money.”
Krane watched him carefully.
“You’re not going regular on me, are you?”
Kai laughed, imagining working behind a desk or opening a shop. Yeah, not for him. “No. Quite the opposite.”
The older male waited. “I was caught,” Kai confirmed. “And I had help. I got lucky.” The word didn’t sit well with him. Meeting that child hadn’t quite felt like something as casual and mundane as luck. “Anyway, I just saw that our system is sick at the core today. On one side you have cold, hunger, slavery, and then the other, with the fat, indulgent nobles who feed off of it.” After a beat, he added quietly, “There are children killed because they develop abilities that frighten those in power.”
Krane watched him intently. Then, he laughed.
“Color me surprised. Kai, who refuses to work for nobles, refuses to pay their taxes, always steals from them and no one else, revealing that he’s anti-government.” He rolled his eyes. “That ain’t nothing new.”
He shrugged. “Maybe not. Except maybe now I want to do something about it.”
The old man’s keen, green eyes sparkled. “And about time, too, kiddo. About time.”
Enlil watched the recording, lips thin. They were right. The boy had used magic.
“And Nalini scanned him, you said?” he asked the head of his guard, who bobbed his head.
“Yes, not even an hour before.”
Hmm.
He watched a hologram showing the entire interrogation, careful to scrutinize Nalini’s expression. The child remained stoic as ever. Cold and cruel, as she generally was with enemies. She’d been that way at three years of age, why would she be any different at nine? Then, he watched her leave and go to her room. Surveillance drones trailed her every step.
She was training, something she did often. She stretched first and then she started with her various weapons.
None of his mages had ever displayed an interest in the art of war. Nalini had asked to be taught how to fight at age five. “I want to defend myself in case enemies get to me,” she’d said. Enlil agreed she should learn. He’d assumed she’d be as interested in these things as his own daughter, who had picked up fencing and given it up within one imperial year, but four years later, the child still persevered. She wasn’t half bad. He’d had a tracker placed inside her the previous year, just in case.
Enlil observed her with her baton. Precise and fast, not very strong, though. She wasn’t allowed a real sword; the warlord didn’t feel comfortable having her armed with steel. The child was already dangerous. Too dangerous, perhaps. Had she ever displayed any belligerence, he would have been forced to dispose of her.
Perhaps he should, regardless, but Enlil wasn’t fond of the idea of doing without such a powerful weapon.
His power had considerably increased since he’d taken the child in. His rule of the Ratna Belt had been conditional on the Imperials’ approval until recently. As their sector was on the outer border, not quite part of the imperial territory, they were mostly left alone. But when the Imperials required their resources, they demanded them, and paid a pittance, too. With Nalini’s foresight abilities, which were always accurate, he’d led an embarrassingly short battle against one young, impetuous Imperial commander.
The boy’s considerable loss had made it clear to every Imperial lying in wait that Ratnarians were no pushovers and asserted Enlil’s dominion.
The girl could foresee the outcome of wars, but she hadn’t seen that a young boy was going to escape? Or that he had magic himself?
Enlil frowned. Nalini had only showed loyalty until now. But this was one offense he couldn’t just brush away. Not when the child was so powerful.
“Put her under constant observation,” he ordered. “Not just drones. I want one guard to have eyes on her at all times. If she acts out of character, notify me immediately.”
His gaze returned to the hologram of the boy. Or young male, perhaps. If he’d really thwarte
d Nalini’s probing, he was dangerous.
“And put a damn bounty on that boy.”
“How much?” asked his private secretary.
“A hundred.”
That amount would steadily rise over the next few years, as the unidentified thief continued evading them. But it was nothing compared to the millions of marks he would offer for any information that could lead to the capture of the magic user he would come to know as Kai Lor.
Seven
The Lotus
Kai hadn’t believed he’d ever let go of the Zonian, the large freighter he’d called his for the best part of a decade.
Each of his wolves had their respective cabin, Krane slept on his copilot chair, and Kai’s small apartment was the closest thing he’d ever had to an actual safe home. One bed, just long and broad enough for his frame. Shelves atop of it; their contents would have fallen right on his face at the slightest turbulence. That didn’t bother him; if there was turbulence, he certainly didn’t want to sleep through it.
Sky slept at his feet. The five wolves who’d left Haimo with him were as far from domesticated as any animal could be. They followed him around because they’d decided he was pack—their alpha, to be precise. Sky had been the alpha before him. For a time, Kai had wondered whether the beast was following him around to catch him at a disadvantage someday. Rip his throat out and reclaim her title. But, in time, he’d learned to sleep in her presence. Now, he couldn’t sleep at all without feeling her there.
This was truly home. An old male and five beasts in a modified ship full of stolen goods.
But whatever way he thought of it, he needed to let her go. His plan depended on it. He had to have a new ship.
“You’ll have to pilot her,” Kai stated reluctantly. He just couldn’t see another way.
Krane scratched his head. “Hmm. Yeah, you’ll need something smaller, less conspicuous, too. I guess we’re in the market for a light fighter.”