The hours passed in a blur. Asterin never got the chance to go to Faraldin’s inn and recover anything of her own—not that there was truly anything of value. Everything that mattered to her was left behind that fateful night.

Despite being the latest recruit, Asterin learned upon her arrival that she would be the first of the trainees to arrive—in order to focus on developing her skill set. Rialis wanted her to progress into their ranks, to become a member of the Valkyr Corps and put her power to good use.

Thus, she spent her days in solitude, with nothing more than dust mites for company.

Asterin lived in the barn that would hold all of the recruits for the entirety of their training, which she could never get Rialis to admit how long it would take. In a moment of boredom, she counted the cots in the barn and found there to be one-hundred-and-forty-three, not one more or less. She tried to calculate how much time would pass to whittle that number down to the typical squad amount of five to eight members, and even if they killed off twenty for each phase of training, it would take well over a year.

Can I really last that long?

The servants of the Isle of Mirth—a name that lost all meaning when the Valkyr took over—brought her lunches with notes from the Captain detailing training exercises for her to practice alone.

Although Asterin possessed some amount of combat skill, a lot of it had been lost in the century-long marriage. She had gained some back in the past year, but if she wanted to survive the upcoming trials, she needed to dedicate time to honing them once again.

At first she thought it would be easy. After all, she and Faraldin had trained ahead of her infiltration of the Embassy, and working for the Kratises Brothers was no walk in the park before either. And yet, her muscles ached more than they had in centuries—reminding her of when she first attempted to copy her brother’s form as he commenced his own training. He talked her down to the fundamentals, and she quickly worked her way up.

Asterin scrunched her nose. Gods, she did not miss being back at the bottom.

Three months after her arrival, however, her routine changed as Rialis brought her breakfast. The two sat beside Asterin’s cot in the far back corner of the barn, a small table that served as her one piece of furniture sitting between them.

Rialis was perfectly civil as she placed a meal of soup, rice, and salmon in front of her.

“The other recruits will be arriving this afternoon,” Rialis said, offering Asterin some utensils.

Asterin glanced between the Captain and the meal. Was this some kind of test? Maybe a poisoning? No, that wouldn’t make sense.

The Captain grinned at her. “Would be useless to go through all this trouble just to kill you off. I figured it would be best to speak with you about how things are going to work from hereon out.”

Asterin pulled her long white locs behind her, tying them back. She tugged the soup in her direction, blowing on it lightly and leaning back against her cot as Rialis explained their new circumstances. It was good enough, but she found herself missing Cook from Faraldin’s inn.

Her mind drifted to her old boss. How was he taking her absence? Surely someone must have relayed what happened. The tavern was filled with a mixture of current and old patrons; the streets had ears, sure, but even bigger mouths.”

“Are you listening to me?” Rialis’ voice wasn’t sharp per se, but her narrowed eyes sent a chill down Asterin’s spine.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

“They’ll be here in a handful of hours, so we need to get you to the landing pad and pretend you’ve just been the first to arrive.” Rialis sighed and looked around the empty barn. “This place will be filled with recruits. Kin of the Empress, lords, and Parliament members; children of wealthy merchants. No family is adverse to the idea of compensation at the price of troublesome children. Or even those who are simply an inconvenience. That’s often how we get our numbers.

“None of them, however, will be aware of your predicament, as I’m sure you’ve figured.” Rialis shook her head. “Less chance of Parliament finding out, that way.”

Asterin took a spoonful of rice, a question on the tip of her tongue. Despite what she had heard, so far her fate with the Valkyr was better than she imagined. “I thought the Valkyr have been hunting me for well over a year… what brought about this change of heart in keeping me for yourselves?”

Rialis paused for a moment. She seemed to choose her next words carefully, speaking slowly, “Having any of your House left alive is a stain on the Valkyr Corps’ reputation. In light of recent events, however, you have more use to us alive rather than dead or imprisoned.

“That Shadowfaen recognized something in you. Any advantage over them is useful, so I do not share the belief that we should discard you.”

But any camaraderie the two may have shared faded away as the Captain’s voice gained a sharp edge.

“However, allow me to be clear, if you express the slightest bit of inclination to harm your fellow recruits, I will be sure to end you myself. Even at the cost of my own life.”

Asterin saw the glint in Rialis’ eyes for what it truly was—an intent to come through on a promise. Years spent cooped up in her House with the exception of social events left her with the gift of being able to read the room, and she could tell there was something lurking deep within Rialis’ heart, something that provoked her to make such a statement.

Maybe Asterin would find out what that was, maybe not. And yet…

“I would rather not be remembered as some savage beast, so do what you must, but I will do the same. You’re not going to kill me so easily.”

Rialis smirked. “I figured.”

“It’s rather dreary. With all of the funds at their disposal, you would think the least they could do is make these dorms more homely.” A younger-looking girl skipped into the barn with a frown, her braids swinging as she turned to another girl beside her.

“They don’t want to waste resources on those who die. One-hundred-and-fifty versus eight. Wouldn’t you want to cut costs?” Her friend flipped back a strand of scarlet red hair. “Granted, that won’t be me. Can’t say the same for you though.”

The younger girl scoffed and shoved her. Asterin barely dodged being slammed into, only to step on someone’s foot.

“Oh, sorry,” Asterin turned and froze, finding the same golden-eyed girl she encountered months ago in front of the Wanderer Embassy. The one whose mother her ex-husband had caused the death of.

The woman narrowed her eyes at her. “Have we met before?”

Asterin shook her head. “No, I don’t believe so.”

Before she could be questioned further, Asterin bee-lined for the far back bed that she had claimed when she first arrived. Though that was far from an issue as the recruits slowly formed their own hierarchy.

It only took a few minutes for everyone to differentiate one’s class from another—the way one held themselves, the way they spoke, it all gave away just where they came from. The beds closest to the front of the barn, therefore, became occupied by those with noble ties. They conversed amongst themselves freely now that the oft-required courtly mannerisms no longer hung over them. But there was still venom in their words and knives in their eyes, which Asterin didn’t need her Vision to spot.

Then there were those who came from merchant families, looking for a lump sum to recover from the harsh trade season. Most of them had met before to share and discuss their wares—if Asterin could hear them right. Although their conversations did not possess the same malintent as the former group… at least not as overtly. Instead, their eyes judged one another based on what they wore, what supplies they brought, and how they spoke of their families.

That left the final group, the one that Asterin had to pretend to be a part of. Those whose families turned them in because they had no other choice—whether it be the very nature of the economy or irresponsible parents who incurred too much debt. None of them spoke and simply chose their respective beds in silence.

Asterin noted the golden-eyed woman to be amongst them. A pang spread through her stomach. She continually glanced at her before ultimately deciding it would be better to face a wall and count all of the termite holes she could find.

For the first few hours that passed, the others chattered amongst themselves. That is, those from the noble and merchant families. The others did not possess affinities for magick like the noble families of the realm. Even the merchants—should they also not have such gifts—were given ample weapons and training meant to guarantee victory, as a form of compensation for giving them away for coin.

Asterin turned to lay on her back, her cot rattling underneath her. She kept her eyes trained on the high beams of the ceiling, thinking over her experiences with the Valkyr thus far.

It bugged her to no end how nonchalant all of the Valkyr had been upon receiving her. And, even more, how it was never questioned why she had been at the Wanderer Embassy beyond what Rialis gleaned from Tali. Clearly, she went with malicious purposes and had even fought with an officer. Yet Tali helped her escape…

Asterin frowned, thinking to who the current general of the Corps was.

Cynthia Marley… Her mind conjured the image of a scrawny young woman, barely the age of fifteen, struggling to hold a sword as Deimos explained the very basics of swordsmanship.

In an effort to make a better name for themselves, Asterin’s uncle convinced Deimos to host sword training lessons for families considering turning the children to the Corps or the Wanderer Order during the Great Famine in the twentieth century. This way, they could trade them with far less guilt—knowing they did what they could to prepare their children for whatever trials awaited them.

Unbeknown to any of her family, Asterin assisted those who struggled under her brother’s tutelage. Even she had trouble following his instructions at times, as he was not the greatest teacher. Cynthia—no, General Marley—had been one of those children.

Is it some sort of debt she feels she owes me? Asterin wondered.

“Up and at ‘em!”

A sharp voice pierced through the chatter in the room, shattering Asterin’s thoughts as she shot up to a standing position—the other girls in the room doing the same.

At the entrance of the barn stood five figures at attention, two of whom Asterin recognized.

Captain Rialis stood to the side of the central figure with Tali just behind her.

The woman in the center was, for lack of a better word, terrifying. She exuded an energy that made Asterin want to keep her eyes pointed towards the ground, but she knew better.

Always keep your eyes on the person in front of you. It’s a sign of weakness to look away.

That’s one of the few lessons she learned during her time in the Lower City.

But as Asterin looked on, a trace amount of familiarity brushed the back of her mind as she looked on at the central figure.

Under a head of cropped black hair rested a stoic visage that left one feeling as though they had committed some kind of foul wrong, and judgment would soon be cast upon them. Faded grey eyes overlooked the gathering of girls, a subtle frown stretching a scar that ran from the edge of their lips to their earlobe. They wore heavy plated armor, decorated with various runes and sigils belonging to none other than Adannu—the First Divine and Father of All Magick, and also the deity most aligned with the Valkyr Corps’ goals.

But another vision appeared just beside this indomitable figure. Of a little girl crying beside the stables, claiming she would be killed the instant she stepped foot on the Isles.

Asterin cocked her head to the side. There was not a doubt in her mind now. This was Cynthia Marley—the same young girl she helped train all those years ago—now the General of the Valkyr Corps.

“I am General Marley,” she said, looking over all of the gathered girls. “I have decided to supervise this year’s candidates for myself and be more involved you your training. And may I just say,” her eyes landed on Asterin, “this is the worst batch of recruits we’ve brought in yet. A waste of money, if we’re all being honest with each other.”

Eri resisted the urge to wince. A few of the nobles bristled at the insult.

Rialis’ words from this morning echoed in her mind. “In the beginning, they’ll try to get into your head. Demoralize you until you self-destruct. Find something to give you strength, even during the worst of times, and you will make it through.”

Asterin found herself glancing at the Captain, who was staring straight ahead, eyes unseeing.

“Well, maybe we can get six of you to make it. Eight, if we are lucky. For now… there are some honored guests who would like to have a word with you.”

The small sneer on her face as she said ‘honored guests’ coupled with a sneer ran alarm bells in Asterin’s head.

In a way, she knew what was about to happen as they were led out of the barn and into a wide clearing adjacent to a large landing circle.

One a makeshift raised dais, looking over the great mass of Valkyr recruits, stood not just Meren and Seren, but also Amos, Ada, and Dralais, the last of whom looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there. She was certain it was then, not just cause of their matching golden eyes, but in the way that they were three out of four Merfolk on the dais. The Empire’s air was much too crisp for most Mer to visit even when travel was welcomed, so they must have been forced due to their duties.

“Meet your instructors.”