And yet, being back on Adhira...
Home, Lira thought as she stood in the rock temple atop the mountain fortress of Rhymore, the centermost point of the terraformed world.
It had taken the transport wagon two hours to drag the ruined Marauder here from the crash site, another hour of explaining to Queen Alara’s Sentinels what had happened and another after that to finally find a moment to escape from the girls once they’d settled into a guest wing deep inside the mountain.
Their questions and the concerned looks they cast Lira’s way were too much for her already fragile emotional state to handle.
She needed a moment to settle herself again.
To rediscover her peace.
She’d slipped away from her crew while they ate lunch, walking past Dextro and Alfie as they patched in a call to General Cortas. She’d been surprised when Dex had looked up and asked her how she was feeling—she wouldn’t have believed him capable of such courtesy. She’d given him a small, stunned smile in return before slipping away.
Finally, after remembering her way through the winding tunnels of the mountain and climbing a set of stairs so tall Lira thought her legs might combust from the strain of her burning muscles, she’d made it to her destination.
Now here she stood, at the very top of Rhymore. Catching her breath, drinking sweet water from a polished red rock basin in the center of the towering temple and admiring the early afternoon view that she’d missed the most since leaving this planet four years ago.
Though the temple was small, with only room enough for a few bodies at a time, Lira found it the most spacious place in the world. Nothing but the four rock columns and the waist-high ledge stood between her and the sky, and Lira’s view was endless.
From here, she could see all of Adhira, as far as her eyes could carry her.
It was here, atop the mountain itself, that Lira had come countless times as a child.
She’d come when her father passed on to the next life. She’d come when she had her Efflorescence Ceremony, and when she simply wanted to escape from the weight of the world on her shoulders. Here, the mountain had always offered to bear her burden instead.
It was here, year after year, that a much younger Lira used to sit with a heavy woolen shawl around her shoulders, the cold wind combing across her face, and allow herself to dream.
A single, massive eyeglass stood empty and waiting in the center of the mountaintop temple. It was made from the very same varillium as the Marauder, acquired long ago in a trade with Xen Ptera.
Though the varillium was unbreakable, Lira still took care as she pressed her eye to the cold eyepiece.
A little adjusting, a few swivels and flashes of light, and Lira felt a smile spread across her face.
Her chest lightened. Her heart raced.
Although she’d seen this view a hundred times, it still took her breath away. Through the eyeglass, all of Adhira unfurled before her like a perfect, tiny map.
Heavens above, she’d missed this planet.
To the north, she could see the emerald expanse that made up Aramaeia, the terraformed rainforest full of monstrous trees, which spread all the way into the clouds and beyond. Inside those trees, entire cities buzzed with life. At Aramaeia’s edge, tucked into the trees, sat the Falls of Amorga. They boomed so loudly that it was impossible to hear anything else once you got within half a mile of their location.
She’d been to those falls. She’d swum in their depths, and explored the Sunken City beyond.
The wind blew, tickling Lira’s senses. She swiveled the eyeglass to the west, where endless green faded into deep reds and browns. The Sands of Bailet were pocked with giamounds, desert rocks that stood miles tall. The city of Lavada thrived inside the monstrous pillars, where the cityfolk milled about in a series of twisting tunnels. They weren’t the only inhabitants within those pillars. They shared it with vergs, gentle sand-colored creatures whose many eyes helped them see in the depths of the giamounds. They had almost as many legs as eyes, which helped them crawl through the deepest tunnels below ground, not yet inhabited by other Lavadian residents.
Lira shivered. She’d never been a fan of giant, wriggling bugs.
She shifted the eyeglass again, fighting against a fresh gust of wind. She adjusted the view until a vision of deep, beautiful blue appeared. The Endless Sea, a world of water that was as deep as it was wide, its people gifted with gills, webbed fingers and toes, able to live beneath the crashing waves.
And here Lira stood, far away in the sky.
In the center of it all.
She loved this place. It was here, standing alone on this very balcony, that Lira first met the greatest loves of her life.
The sky.
The stars.
And the ships that soared through them.
“Admiring the view?”
Lira looked up so fast she nearly fell over.
That voice. How much she’d missed it.
“You sneaky bastard,” Lira hissed.
Then she sidestepped the eyeglass and crossed to the other side of the temple in three quick strides, where she threw herself into her twin brother’s arms.
Lon was older than her by just a few minutes, but he’d never let her forget it. He was the loud, brute strength to Lira’s calm, calculated silence. The one who’d always laughed at her for having her nose buried in the pages of books—and yet, he’d frequently spent his wages on the very best ones he could find to give to her.
“I have to admit, little sister,” Lon said, holding her out at arm’s length, “you’ve outdone yourself with your entrance this time. Destroying an entire field of hrevan crops and your ship in the process?” He grinned, his purple eyes flashing. “You’ve certainly changed.”
He always knew how to press her buttons. But Lira still smiled as she looked at her brother.
Godstars, how he’d grown.
He was at least a head taller than her now, his pale blue arms rippling with muscle, spreading up into a thick neck and strong shoulders. He wore the traditional loose, sleeveless green shirt of the Sentinels. A shiny golden Adhiran emblem was pinned on the fabric right above his heart.
“You’ve been promoted!” Lira gasped.
“Queen Alara isn’t easy to work for, as you can well imagine.” Lon grinned like a forest cat, earning another smile from Lira. He rapped his knuckles on the Adhiran emblem, the endless spiral that signified life. “A lot has happened since you’ve been away, little bug.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I thought I’d grown out of that horrendous nickname.”
He laughed, a booming thing that rivaled the mountain wind. “You can leave your planet behind, Lira. But it doesn’t change who you are inside.”
Silence swept over them, sudden and piercing.
A single scaled patch on Lon’s right cheek warmed, glowing the slightest blue. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, willing the emotions away.
He had always been better at controlling them than she was.