RHYS TORLIN IS ON THE MOVE. With only his wits and ideals, he infiltrates Synketros in hopes of unlocking the secret to its soldiers' loyalty. When a plan goes awry and found friends putting themselves into trouble to save him, Rhys must choose betw...
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2412, Strilaxis 26, Daleth
Rhys stared at another girl beside Xalim. This one had frigid blond curls pulled back from her forehead, freckles splashed across her golden brown cheeks, and round eyes the color of the walls around them. They showed up with a knock to his room late in the morning, long after his neighbors had gone to their missions. He doubted the foraging master remembered if he showed up or not, so he earned every right to stay inside for as long as he could.
When he cranked the door open, Xalim slipped inside. But not long after, another girl slinked past the diminishing space between the frame and the door. "Rhys, this is Bertha," Xalim looked up at him with a sly grin on her face. "She doesn't like to say her family name because..."
Bertha pushed past her friend and stuck a hand towards Rhys. "Kindreth," she said. Her voice was somewhere between shrill and squeaky. "Like...the day. Nice to meet you."
He knew what she meant. Being named by things people use in everyday life could be a source of ridicule. It's like being named after Rudik. Or a spoon. Or a boot. And by the looks of it, Bertha was used to it by now.
Rhys shook her hand, letting go as quickly as their palms touched. He turned to Xalim. "Don't tell me you used it on her," one look at the dark-haired girl told him otherwise. He ran a hand down his face. "You used it on her."
"It's impossible to do things with just the two of us," Xalim reasoned as if she thought her opinions matter in this dangerous business. "I thought we'd need more hands, and who better than a long-time friend?"
Well, it's not like he could do anything about it now. The secret's out. Might as well welcome Bertha in rather than have her tattle to the Sovereign out of sheer hatred about being rejected. One thing Xalim said piqued Rhys' interest though. " 'Long-time'?" he asked. "How long have you two been here? And are you both foragers?"
Bertha shook her head, moving further into the room, straight into the spread of brewing equipment by Rhys' cot. "I'm from the smiths department," she said. "I'm in charge of making spare blades out of Dwarven metal. And I haven't been here long. Just a month ago. I think."
Xalim sidestepped Rhys and crouched next to Bertha. The part who valued his personal space recoiled from within. He pushed the discomfort deep down. They meant well. They only wanted to help and learn. Nothing bad about that.
"I've been here for far longer," the dark-haired girl said. Upon analyzing their trails, it came to light they're both humans. From Cardina, then? Or in the hidden settlements around Asopus or Rabante? "Been here since I was twelve. I found Bertha among the latest intake. She's the only one who stuck to me after that."
Bertha bumped shoulders with the older girl. "You're the only one who was nice to me," she said. "Of course, I'd stick by you."
"Last intake?" Rhys asked. "Where does the Sovereign get her people?"
