Leaving Skry

Something was wrong. A deep, aching wretchedness resided here. It wasn’t obvious, and at first she simply brushed it off as the unease she felt on those rare occasions she left Adeline Abbey. At seventeen, she had lived there almost her entire life. While she didn’t normally consider herself as insular as other Mages she knew, it was difficult to adjust to rhythms outside of her own habits and the flow of Abbey life.


Just the travel alone had her ill at ease. The pace of life on a Technocracy military vessel, even in the deadness of Starfall, had been similar to her own ordered days. But here she was an outsider. No duties to perform, no chores to do, no novices to teach. There were no friends to chat with, no teachers to ask questions of. Just a small library and exercise room. And then a vast array of nothing for a week and a half while they traveled. And on top of that, Starfall space was uncomfortable. It was empty. She had heard other Mages complain about travel, but she hadn't felt it herself.She had expected to relax, to enjoy what amounted to a free vacation with nothing expected of her until she reached Alpha Theta. But she was unaccustomed to idleness, and it chafed after only a few days. The anxiety had grown, and it was so easy to brush off the ill ease at the journey’s end as an outpouring of inaction.


The Abbess would have been horrified that one of her students could have been so lax.


 It wasn’t until she was in the installation that she started doubting. Everywhere she looked the stress was tangible. It was clearly written in the sharp lines around that person’s eyes or the tightness upon this person’s mouth. The tension fairly sang in the air as she was escorted through the compound, though no one spoke of it. They simply spoke of this exciting new life-form, all of the mysteries that surrounded it and oh wait until she saw it. But their eyes shifted when they spoke and their shoulders hunched, protecting themselves from something she could only guess at.


 The hum of activity was dulled. She could almost feel it shifting, writing, like sluggish bees, around the center of the installation. A muteness waited there, deadening all of her senses. It didn’t reach toward her; it wasn’t that aggressive. But it was there, and that empty silence stared at her from through the walls, waiting. Not for her specifically. For something else.


 She tried to stop walking, just inside of the doors to the lab, eyes riveted on the steri-glass cylinder. Mutely, she shook her head, lips pressed firmly together. Because she knew that if she opened her mouth, she would start screaming.


 Sasha forced her eyes open, breaking the dream firmly and deliberately. Six years ago, she hadn’t screamed. But if she had allowed the dream to continue, it never would have stopped.


 With a groan, she sat up, pushing her fists hard against her eyes. If she did that, she could imagine for a moment that she was back at Adeline Abbey. Even if she opened her eyes, she could pretend that for another heartbeat. The room was very similar, small, clean, with simple furnishings. But the light that streamed in through the window was wrong. Where dawn on Adeline had been warm, russet and rose, here on Skry it was silver and shivery, the light carrying a watery quality. The Skry Abbey was lovely in its own way, all spindly towers and sweeping bridges, but Sasha would always miss the grounded curves and comfort that had been the warm stone and wood of Adeline.


 Deliberately she set those thoughts aside, settling them in the mental compartment she reserved for the ache of loss. Certain things and people lived in that place, and she would never chide herself for missing them. But there were times and places, and now was neither of those things. She tucked the dream even deeper, in to the compartment labeled for things she wanted to forget but knew she could not afford to. The mental exercises of the Skry Order were different than what she had learned as a child on Adeline. But they served her well. Because she came to that training late, she might never be able to fully file away her memories, pulling them out as one would pull a book from a shelf, but she could compartmentalize enough when it came to things that no longer mattered.  Six years had passed. The creature was dead, dissected and studied by the scientists of Alpha Theta. It held no power over her, or anyone else.


 And yet, still, she dreamed of it. When she allowed herself to.


Sasha sighed and rolled out of bed. In truth, she wasn’t as good at compartmentalizing as she would have liked. But to be better at it, she would have to give up too much of what Novalina had taught her. Even after she dressed and washed, she didn’t put away the thoughts of the former Abbess of Adeline. She settled it comfortably around herself, letting all of it rest on her shoulders like a well-worn cloak.


Normally, she would have headed off to oversee novices’ morning chores. But this morning was different. Special. Today she headed purposefully toward the office of the Abbott. Today, she was twenty-three, and she was considered a full Mage of the Order. And she knew exactly what she wanted to do. The question was, would Abbott Tobias agree?


She chewed on her lower lip as she threaded through the slender hallways. Occasionally, someone would greet her, a smile or a small wave, and she would respond in kind, although her mind was clearly elsewhere. Those who knew her understood; they knew what today was.


Technically, the Abbott couldn’t stop her from leaving. But Sasha always grew a little nervous if she thought she’d have to defend her choices, a low grade anxiety that had come about since her trip to Alpha Theta. Nothing about that assignment had been conductive to positive personal growth, she muttered to herself. All members of the Order were supposed to find positive personal growth in all experiences. But few enough had encountered that thing. Or been questioned by an Agent of the Inquisition.


 Sasha sighed. It could have been worse. She had been a child then, even if she had felt very adult, being sent off on a mission years before she should have been. Had Novalina sent her away deliberately? She had always wondered, once she understood what she had avoided at the Abbey itself, especially as the personal student of the Abbess.


 Don’t mention you are my student, she had said calmly, before Sasha left for Alpha Theta. Do not lie of course. All of the students here learn with me in some capacity. But do not draw attention to it. She had reached out, touching the girl’s hair lightly for a moment before withdrawing her hand. The unspoken and do not claim affection for me, only became clear in hindsight. Even now, the Abbott and Abbess of the Skry Abbey did not know that Sasha had been a personal student of Novalina. They would not have turned her away, as a student of the Order. But ever since being found guilty of heresy and stripped of her title, it was as if Novalina had never existed to those who remained. Sasha would have been looked upon with suspicion at the very least. And that was only if she had been found innocent herself. The Agent’s ignorance of the relationship between Abbess and Acolyte had been enough to shield her from more intense methods of questioning, she knew that now. Novalina’s other student had not been so lucky. Sasha didn’t know what had happened to him, but if she knew Roan, he would have never done anything but show the utmost support for his teacher. Sasha had always been more pragmatic. And besides, she didn’t believe what Novalina had suggested. No. There had been no reason to lose everything over an ideology she did not adhere to.


The gracefully arched door was closed when she reached the Abbott’s office. Before she could knock, it swung open on its own. She smiled, letting herself in. Abbott Tobias didn’t need to show off, but sometimes he did anyway. Still, she couldn’t help but like him and his wife, Abbess Ryanna. They had been kind, not only to her but to everyone who crossed their paths, and it was impossible to not appreciate their generosity or good humor.


The Abbott looked up at her from the desk monitor, a smile widening across his thick features.


 “Come in, Sasha, come in. Don’t hover in the door way, unless you’ve changed your mind about getting older. I know I have.”


 Her own smile mirrored his as she stepped in to the brightly lit office. The watery light of Skry poured in from hundreds of tiny windows, bathing the room in swimming movement. The atmosphere of the planet was heavy with humidity; the clouds barely vapor at all, always straining to complete condensing in to thick, slow raindrops. But the wavy patterns in the glass of the windows completed the illusion that the office itself was a few feet below the water.


“No, I think I’m going to bow to the wheels of time and get on with it,” she replied with a laugh.


“Well, just hate to think you were holding out on me,” he grumped. “It wouldn’t surprise me if you were to come up with a spell to keep someone young forever. If you do, I’ll be insulted if I’m not the first person you come to with it. Now. Let’s see. On to business.”


Here was the part she had been dreading. Most full Mages had a plan after completing their training. Some might be invited to stay and teach, or go to another Abbey for the same purpose. Some would conduct research. Others would go to work for the Church or even the Government of a particular planet. There were a number of avenues open to a talented Mage. Not everyone who came to one of the Abbeys to study would reach this level, but those who did could go almost anywhere they wanted.


Unlike her peers, however, Sasha hadn’t responded to any of the invitations to teach at other Abbeys. Nor had she pursued setting up a place for herself where she could continue her studies. And she had no interest in the spiritual or the executive. Rarely, a Mage would simply go their own way; vanish in most cases to live a life of obscurity. But that never happened with a student as gifted as Sasha was. So she knew that for all of his casual demeanor, Abbott Tobias was nervous about the lack of news he’d had for this particular student.


He cleared his throat slightly just as Sasha was steeling herself to speak.


“You do know of course, that the Abbess and I want you to teach here.” A pause as he gave her a heavy look. He plowed on before she could say anything, “You have worked wonderfully with the novices, but I would love to see you teach some of the higher acolytes.”


He thinks I didn’t get any offers, she realized suddenly. He was trying to help her save face, so that she wouldn’t have to admit it. It warmed her. Sasha smiled and shook her head.


 “Thank you Abbott, but I have other plans.”

He was visibly relieved as he relaxed back in to the chair. She suppressed a smile. He would never admit it, but it would be simpler in some ways if she weren’t here.


“Of course, of course you do Sasha,” he said with a laugh. “But the Abbess and I will miss you when you go. And if you should ever change your mind, we would welcome you here.”


Trailing off, he waited, clearly interested in what she intended. He was sincere in his offer, but it would be better if she left. She needed to go. A deep breath, held for a moment, and then:


“I want to go work with the refugees.”


“Eh? You want to what?”


The look of complete befuddlement on his face made her giggle. He shot her a look of mock indignation but she kept smiling as she explained.


“The refugees. On Eldorado.” She knew he was focused on the Abbey, but sometimes she forgot how little attention most of them paid to the outside world.


“About a year ago, refugees started showing up. They weren’t showing up anywhere in particular, but there would be a ship here, a ship there, a group of them suddenly on Gaul or Belphagor Minor. No one knows where they came from. So the Government has been gathering all of those strange refugees and setting up a place for them on Eldorado.”


“Why not just ask them where they came from? Why are they keeping it a secret?” Abbott Tobias wasn’t really sure what to think of all of this. He clearly had a vague memory of hearing something in the feeds about this, but he hadn’t paid a lot of attention. It hadn’t been big news.


Sasha shook her head. “No. It’s not a secret. I mean. Well, you see, they don’t know either. None of them.” She spread her hands, trying to explain something that she only partially understood herself. “They don’t know how they got here, or where they came from. They know their names, how to take care of themselves, generally. But not much else. So the government is rounding them up when they find them and sending them to Eldorado. Ostensibly, it’s temporary while they investigate what’s going on.”


Abbott Tobias huffed. “Eldorado is a glorified junk yard. No one lives there that doesn’t have to.”


 She shrugged helplessly. “It’s not where I would have sent them, but they didn’t ask me.”


 A chuckle at that one, and Sasha relaxed a little bit. He wasn’t arguing with her or telling her no. That was a good sign. She leaned forward a bit, pushing it home. She didn’t ask permission. She didn’t need to.


“So I’m going to go see what I can do. Maybe I can figure out where they come from. There are only so many places humans have settled. A hundred planets give or take, maybe a handful who don’t want anyone to know about them. But surely someone must miss these people? Someone has to know. And while I can’t travel to every planet as say ‘hey, are you missing a couple thousand people?’ maybe there’s more information. Something a Mage can find that they can’t.”


She waited, sitting nervously at the edge of her chair. The Abbott sat back, contemplating her for longer than she would have liked. With a sigh, he nodded.


“If that’s what you want to do,” he murmured dubiously. “But what do you want to do after that? It’s not as if that will last the rest of your life.”


A grin split Sasha’s face. “Maybe I’ll come back here and freeload off of the Abbey when I’m done. Or get a fat check and a medal for services rendered. Then I can retire and come back to free load off of the Abbey.”


He jabbed a finger at her, scowling. “Come back here and I’ll put you to work,” he snapped even as the scowl melted in to a smile. But the smile was short lived.


“Eldorado’s a rough place, even for a Mage. You couldn’t pay me to go there, to tell you the truth,” he mulled. “Let me send a few waves, see if I can’t get someone to meet you on that end. Are you willing to wait a couple of days?”


She nodded, not needing to think about it. There were goodbyes to be said, both to the people and the place itself. It wasn’t Adeline, but Skry had been good to her and she would miss it too. Another thing to add to that mental compartment. She stood up when he did, waiting while he came around the desk. They didn’t hug, or shake hands. Mages tended to be overly sensitive about personal space. So much of what they did relied on touch. He reached up between them, spreading his fingers wide in the air. She mirrored his motion, and they stood for a moment, palms just a centimeter apart, but never touching.


“I can’t say that I’m thrilled with your choice,” he said quietly as he lowered his hand. “But do be careful Sasha. Come back when you are done and we can find you something more suited to your talents.”


She smiled, dropping her own hand. “This is suited to my talents, Abbott. And I think it’s important.”


He nodded. “I think you do. I hope you’re right. Be safe, and go with the blessings of the Universe.”


“And you, Abbott Tobias. And you.”