Cyerte

The Order’s compound liked a lot like a trade school, a design that served many purposes. For one thing, no one questioned the presence of a school, even in the middle of the city. It allowed them to openly do their research and work without raising undue suspicion, and the training facility was not used only for Order members. With its shooting range and bio, nano and  mechanical technology labs, the compound – officially called the Variss School of Science and Mechanical Trades – served a high-end clientele. Many city, national and international police officers trained there, and budding scientists joined the student body for

Nakia Keiki crossed her arms and glared at the man sitting across from her. “Don’t you talk to me like you’re my father,” she said. “I have one of those, that’s enough. And you wouldn’t be the first choice even if I did need a new one.” The man, an older, graying man with fingerless gloves on his hands and a goatee hanging from his chin like a bit of forgotten food, shook his head and made a sound like a disapproving grandmother. “Kia, I am just trying to help you. You do need to practice. Walter’s said so. You’re behind-“ “I’m fine,” she shot back bitterly. She dr

Gone. It was a strange word, she thought as she sat alone in her room, staring at the sword that used to be both less and much, much more to her. The red gem in the hilt glittered like a falling tear. It was funny, all the ways a weapon could take people from your life. It might be their weapon, leading them out to great and terrible deeds of war. It might be the one to take their lives, cutting open the seal of their flesh and draining their blood, red as that stone, onto the ground. So many ways… Catherine couldn’t hate the sword, any more than she could hate Variss, any more than she could hate Fate herself. Hating them would