A small girl, who couldn’t be much older than ten, jostled her way through the crowded bazaar, the smell of fresh produce tickling her nose. Her red eyes burned from the harsh rays of the yellow dwarf star. The orange dirt felt rough under her feet. Her breath was uneven, and her face was flushed. She looked behind her frantically, and, when seeing that she wasn’t followed, she let out a deep breath. She continued down the marketplace, checking behind her every few seconds. 

She took a moment to get her bearings. She had made it to the middle where stone buildings lined each side of her. Several smaller shops with temporary sunshades made of wood and tarp dotted the street. Each one had several hover-carts and hover-crates full of different goods and produce. It was crowded. She was semi-safe in a crowd, as her human-like features made her stand out slightly. So, she pulled her hood over, keeping her head bowed. 

The new caravans hadn’t quite memorized her face or clothes. She could easily snag a snack or two, maybe even something of value to barter with the next trading day. She took her time, trying not to cause a scene. Discretion was key when it came to swiping goods. As long as she blended in, no one would question her presence. After all, orphans were commonplace around Digao. Before she could even prepare a theft, she overheard a commotion through the crowd. She picked up pace. They must have tracked her down.  

“You little brat,” a deep voice bellowed, “once we find you, you’ll be sorry!” 

She hastened her pace, and, when she spotted three bulky teenagers pushing themselves through the crowd, her eyes widened as she broke into a wild run, weaving recklessly in and out of people’s way. 

Another voice barked, “You can’t out run us Vipers, kid!”

She pushed her jagged, white bangs out of her face, trying to get a better view of her surroundings. 

“Whoa!” 

She crashed into a solid mass of red, brown, and gray. She stumbled backwards, barely catching herself, and then stared up at the man she collided with. The first thing she noticed was his strange outfit. He wore robes unlike anything she had ever seen. The golden emblem on his belt caught her eye. It glittered in the sun’s light, and she knew he must have valuables on him. The second thing she noticed was that he was human, or looked to be pure-human. This was an uncommon site on Diago or any other part of the Outer. His long hair was pulled back into a tight bun. 

A human like him wouldn’t know the dangers of Diago. An easy mark, she thought.

“Excuse me,” he said softly. “Are you all right?”

“Fine, thanks!”

She flashed the man what she hoped was a rather convincing innocent grin before rushing off, brushing against him as she passed. She managed to swipe something of his, but she didn’t dare look until she knew she was safe. She could hear the Vipers just a few feet behind her. Her pace increased dramatically, fueled with an unrivaled sense of survival. 

I gotta lose them. Quick… The faint scent of flowers and pollen hit her. Xeller’s Grove! 

She took a hard left, overturning a cart belonging to an old serpentine-looking lady, and then sped down the street, ignoring the angry shouts of the people behind her. 

Out in the distance, she could see the edges of a dangerously overgrown grove just peeking through the gaps between the rundown houses. She slid through a small hole in the rusty chain link fence. Her breath was hot and fast, and it felt as if it were burning her throat. She paused, doubled over.

The first to arrive was a tall, dark feathered boy. His gaunt face twisted with anger, “You sneaky little bitch—”

“Shut it, Lee,” she snapped, throwing a rock over the fence, hitting his beak. “As long as you’re out there,” she pointed through the fence, “and I'm in here, you can’t touch me.”

Lee wiped the blood off his beak and laughed dangerously, “Yeah… You’re safe all right. Until we come back with Ziyad and some clippers. Since that old man died, there’s no need to be afraid of the grove anymore.”

She gulped and took off deeper into the grove. Most people would easily get lost in this large green mass, but not her. She never understood why people were so afraid to come here. They believed it to be haunted or cursed, praying on those who dared to enter it alone. There were stories, but little proof so this never made sense to her. To her, these woods were home. She walked a very faint trail that led into the middle of the grove. A warm smile spread across her lips. 

She spotted that familiar, rusty, rundown house made of corrugated sheet metal, which looked extremely out of place in this lush, green forest. She walked up the dirt path towards the house. Just as quickly as her smile came, it was gone. Her eyes landed on the beaten up slab of greystone not too far off the dirt path. A sparse amount of weeds and grass sprouted over the large dirt mound in front of the stone. She bent down over the gray slab and brushed it off.

Xeller M. Sinclair

A great man and an even greater friend.

 A sad smile, though it looked more like a frown, split across her face. After a moment had passed, she straightened up and sighed as she headed into the house. Immediately, she started coughing at the pungent scent of dust and mold. The interior wasn’t as rundown as the exterior, but it wasn’t standard living conditions, either. The first floor served as a bedroom of sorts as well as a kitchen. The second floor, accessible only by a ladder, served as both a smaller bedroom and a mini-storage area.

As she sat down at the table, she let out a grunt. She licked her dry lips. Although it didn’t help much considering her mouth was just as dry. She wished for a drink, but knew there wasn’t any clean water around. She’d have to make her way all the way down to the water pump out back. By now, her adrenalin had all but worn off, and her limbs were screaming. She glanced over at the bed against the wall. There appeared to be little to no mold on it. It looked very inviting. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to rest—  

No, she couldn’t, not with the looming threat that The Vipers could show up. It occurred to her that The Vipers, now no longer scared of the grove, would trash it. She frowned at the thought. 

“Great…” 

With a sigh, she slouched over the table. Just then, her stomach grumbled painfully. 

  After a while, she recalled the man she had bumped into. He was extremely out of place in this small village. She wondered what business he had here. 

From her pocket, she pulled out a strange thick rectangular device. It was what she had swiped off the man. There was a small screen and a strange tube-like container built into it. Unable to figure out what it was, she shrugged, pocketing the mysterious object once more.  

“It must be worth something,” she supposed. 

As she continued to rest, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She looked around, but no one was there. Something felt nearby. With a furrowed brow, she headed outside. The grove was eerily quiet. She felt drawn to the left. Curious, she headed off in that direction. 

She came across a rundown shed made of corrugated sheet metal just like the house, only much rustier. It looked about ready to come crashing down.

Beep...  Beep... Beep…

She jumped. It took her a moment to realize the noise was coming from the device in her pocket. She took out the mysterious gadget. She examined it, and found strange symbols appearing on the screen. She couldn’t read them, but when she held the device to the shack, it began to beep more rapidly. With a shrug, she entered the shed. 

Inside, she found it to be nearly ransacked by weather and untouched for years. The various holes in the roof allowed several beams of sunlight to shine through, providing her with adequate lighting. With the ominous roof and the walls bowing inwards, she began to realize why Xeller never wanted her in the shed. Yet, she persisted. 

A few paces in, the gadget  started to beep faster. As she explored the shed, her senses were heightened. She could feel prickling on her skin and forearms. She looked at them, and felt a strangeness pass over her. She never understood the blue markings, but she knew they had to mean something. Xeller meant to tell her before he passed. She shook the sadness from her head, and pressed onwards. 

The further she went into the shed, the faster the gadget beeped. Eventually she found a small pile of rubbish and debris. Now, the whole place was a mess, but there was something different about this pile. She could feel it. She shifted through the trash, moving torn up pieces of cloth, to reveal a beaten-up burlap bag.

When she touched the fabric, she felt a zap shoot through her fingers. She was even more determined to find out what was inside. She pulled open the dusty drawstring bag. As the fabric slid a part, she was assaulted by a near blinding burst of light and was pushed backwards. It felt as though she was forced out of her own skin. As she regained herself, she peered into the bag once more, the light quickly fading into a soft glow. 

Inside the bag she found a golden metal belt buckle, similar to what the man at the market wore, glowing with a strange blue light. Now that she could get a closer look, she thought it looked very much like a triangle in a hexagon surrounded by a circle . She picked it up, and at the touch of the metal, she could feel tiny vibrations traveling from the item into her palm, and then up her arm. She held the device up to the buckle.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

An uneasy sensation settled in her stomach and creeped up her neck. She knew she wasn’t alone. She called out, “I know you’re there.” 

She turned around to see the silhouette of a man blocking the doorway. As he walked further into the shed, she eyed him cautiously. It took her a moment to recognize him: the man from the marketplace. 

“Hello,” he answered calmly. “I do believe you have something of mine.” His voice was soft, nonthreatening. 

“What is this thing?” she asked, gesturing to the device in her hand. 

“That is my Omnia-Decoder. Often called an O-Decoder,” he explained. “I use it to collect and store Omnia Energy.”

She looked down at the object in her hand with a furrowed brow. It must’ve meant a lot to him. He went through all the trouble of tracking her down. It couldn’t have been easy for him. He walked closer, and she had to fight the urge not to run. He was getting too close. As he towered over her, she felt slightly ashamed of her dirt stained hands, feet, and cheeks. Not to mention the ratty clothing and matted hair. With him being this close to her she could now see that his hair was just starting to gray and subtle lines were slowly etching their way across his brow and under his eyes.

“What’s Omnia?” she questioned, taking a step backwards. 

“You’re holding some right now,” he pointed out. “Omnia energy is a mystical energy that exists within the universe. I am part of a group that collects and protects this sacred energy.” 

He outstretched his hand, and she knew he wanted his O-Decoder back. She, reluctantly, handed the tool back over to him. She muttered an apology. He eyed the blue markings on her arms with a strange look. She felt a pang of dejection, and lowered the sleeves of her tunic. He took a moment to test his O-Decoder, possibly looking for any damages she might have caused. While he inspected the device, she watched him carefully. He pressed something on the screen and pointed it at the metal buckle in her hand.

The light came pouring out of the buckle, swirling through the air. She watched in awe as it disappeared into the device, filling the tube. The metal felt cold in her hand, and the strange sensation of the energy left her palm. She looked at the buckle, and then she looked at the emblem on the man’s obi. 

“Did you know Xeller?”

“Yes,” he said, sadly. “He and I were once on the Omnia Council together.”

She had heard some stories of the Council. They were thought to be a group of peacekeepers, but not to the people of the Outer. Those who lived in the Outer either felt abandoned by the council or cared little for them. Xeller never spoke often enough about them, and when he did the subject had seemed painful to the old man. She thought he, just like the others, was anti-Council involvement. She had no idea he had friends who were members let alone that he was a member. 

“Who are you?” she finally asked.

“I am Master Caden.” He eyed her, and it seemed as though he was considering something. “Now that you know who I am,” he began softly, pocketing the O-Decoder, “may I ask who you are?”

“I’m… I’m Nexara,” she mumbled, looking away. “Nexara Sinclair.”