Prologue
Aetherial
* * *
The twin suns blazed high in the crimson sky, their light casting a deep glow over the endless stretches of dark red soil. The landscape was a rugged masterpiece of towering cliffs, jagged rock formations cut into the colorful sandstone, and boulders so massive they seemed to have been carved by giants. The dry wind carried the scent of sunbaked earth and the faint whisper of distant storms.
Dorane ran barefoot across the dusty ground, his laughter echoing through the canyon. He dodged between the boulders, chasing Shep and the others, their voices a symphony of youthful exuberance.
“Try to catch me, Dorane!” Shep taunted, his wiry frame darting through a narrow crevice between two massive stones.
“Just wait!” Dorane grinned, scrambling after him.
Six of them played among the rocky outcroppings—Shep, Kalna, Orren, Tiev, Miris, and little Ryl. They leaped from stone to stone, kicking up fine clouds of red dust, their feet calloused and tough from years of running over the harsh terrain. The village sprawled below them, a collection of dome-shaped huts built from sand-hardened clay, their rounded forms blending into the arid landscape.
Dorane skidded to a stop, raising a hand to shield his eyes when a shadow passed over them. The others slowed, their laughter fading as they turned their faces skyward. The silhouette of a dark gray ship cut against the bright sky, the hum of its engines a distant growl growing steadily louder.
“A ship!” Miris whispered.
“It’s a Legion ship,” Tiev added, his voice tinged with awe.
Dorane narrowed his eyes, watching the dark, angular shape descend toward the village. It was a troop transport, sleek and menacing, its underbelly splitting open as landing struts extended.
“Why is the Legion here?” Kalna asked, her excitement dimming to unease.
“They never come here,” Shep muttered, crouching low behind a ridge of rock. The others followed suit, instinctively pressing themselves into the shadows, their game forgotten.
The transport settled onto the outskirts of the village, a plume of dust rising in its wake. The hiss of hydraulics signaled the ramp lowering, and then they emerged—Legion soldiers in matching dark gray uniforms, their visors gleaming in the sunlight.
Dorane’s stomach twisted. The Legion only came to the Outer Settlements for one reason.
“Something’s wrong,” he murmured.
The children fell silent as a figure strode out onto the ramp. He was tall, his uniform crisp, adorned with the insignia of power. Even at nine years old, Dorane understood rank, and this man held it like a blade.
General Coleridge Landais.
Dorane had never seen him in person, only heard his name in hushed conversations between his parents and the village elders. He was said to be ruthless, a conqueror who saw the Outer Settlements as nothing more than pieces on a board.
Why is he here?
Dorane’s gaze followed the general as he stepped onto the packed soil of their village. The village leader, an older man named Ralvek, approached him with cautious deference. Their voices were too far away to hear, but then Ralvek pointed—at Dorane’s house.
Dorane’s stomach clenched.
His mother stood outside their home, a woven basket of cloth draped over her arms. She stood watching the scene unfold. Her head was held high. Dorane smiled, pride swelling in his chest. His mother never bowed to anyone. A second later, his father stepped out of their home.
Dorane didn’t understand what happened next. One second the Legion General was walking toward his parents, and the next, he lifted a blaster and fired. He never even spoke. The Legion General just… fired on his father.
His father crumpled to the ground.
Dorane’s world snapped apart.
The moment stretched, surreal, endless. His breath caught in his throat as his mother lunged forward, her cry barely escaping before another shot fired. Her body folded, collapsing beside his father in the dirt.
Dorane’s ears rang with the sound of the shots, his vision tunneling as the world around him fragmented. The voices of his friends blurred into meaningless noise. His limbs locked, his breath stalled, and for the first time in his life, he understood what true terror was.
The village erupted. Screams burst from the residents as blaster fire rang out. The Legion soldiers surged forward, storming into homes and cutting down… everyone. The scent of scorched flesh filled his nose. Dorane’s legs trembled beneath him.