The Starlight Lancer

Chapter Forty-Eight: Riiva's Will

"You'll never find a greater assortment of fools who think themselves gods than the scholars of the Order of Riiva."

—Wadzon Wyverlan, famed Pirate Captain

In a loud voice, Ardo addressed the entire room. "These are strange times in which we find ourselves, are they not? Our oldest foe, possibly older than the galaxy itself, vanquished by the girl before us—a girl bearing its mark. The Order sincerely thanks you for the good you have done, Zaina Quin."

Part of her wanted to glance at Elest, but a weight tugged at her heart. She frowned. Ardo's proclamation made it sound so easy, but Zaina wouldn't be here without Gir's sacrifice. "I wish I could've acted sooner—it might have saved Gir's life."

Ardo grimaced, a twinge of sorrow flashing in his old eyes. "Yes—I understand. Girxorgian of Clan Ra-Folgoth will be dearly missed. A High Lancer's High Lancer, if you will—his name will forever be enshrined in history as one of the great lancers, and within our own tomes as a true hero."

"He was a good person," Zaina said. Sadness bled into her voice. "He wanted to make sure I got out of there, even if it cost him his life."

"Gir was nearing the end of his lancer lifespan," Ardo remarked. "I have no doubt he was seeking some measure of glory. He indicated to me before leaving that he did not expect to return. I am glad he met you. It would've meant the world to him to know he saved one last person."

Warmth filled Zaina's heart at the notion. Meeting Gir had changed her life forever, and she would never forget him. Maybe he could find some peace in whatever afterlife he believed in.

"As for Drel Ofrans," Ardo said, immediately dispelling her positive feelings and making Zaina's stomach twist and sink, "he, too, will be greatly missed by the Order. The loss of a lancer—especially in such an avoidable and needless fashion—is always a tragedy. Drel still had four years."

Zaina's head hung, overcome by the weight of guilt. There was nothing she could say or do that would make that right—either with them or herself. "I accept whatever punishment for his death that you have to give."

"Ah, but young Zaina, you are not entirely responsible," Ardo replied. "The final blow was not struck by you—though it could not have been struck without you. Your actions in their entirety are being considered in this matter—including your more noble decisions before and afterward. Not many with your affliction would be brave enough to return a lancer's body to the Order, never mind the circumstances of their demise. We cannot, in entirety, hold you responsible for the events which contributed to the lancer Drel's untimely death; but neither can we exonerate you."

She frowned, knowing the scholar was right. An image of Drel's cracked open, burnt-out skull flashed in her mind, and a shudder crept upward from her gut. The cold grip of shame weighed on her shoulders. That was my fault.

Still, she wished they'd get to the point. She hated being strung along like this. It wasn't easy getting a read on the emotionless, monotone Ardo Nash.

"Now." Ardo's voice startled Zaina, snapping her out of her thoughts. He continued, "You, Zaina Quin, have come to us as a citizen of the galaxy. If I may have another question of you, I might ask: why?"

Zaina's head tilted. She hated riddle-speak. "Why what—why did I come here?"

Ardo nodded. "Yes, precisely. What is it that you seek? Did you come here only to share what knowledge you have—to uphold your agreement to return Drel Ofrans's body? Or did you come with a higher purpose in mind?"

Zaina didn't hesitate—this was her moment, and she had to take the chance. "I came to be a lancer."

A grin stretched across Ardo's face. "I had a feeling you'd say that. Then I shall cede the floor to the Scholar Suprema of Induction. The authority of the Honorable Scholar Suprema of Induction Berest Valdian is recognized." Ardo bowed his head, and his hover-bed floated back and reattached to the top of the antler-tree.