The Legacy of the Void

Chapter 1

There were many things that set Michael Garron apart from the other teenagers around him. The bright white sun's rays reflected off their hair, shades of silver, gray, and the rare pale gold, but when it hit his, the color that reflected could only be called brown. The closest anyone came to it in shade was a dirty pewter. From across the blue grass courtyard, he looked over at the other children, and that was when his second most noticeable feature showed itself. Everyone around him had varying shades of muted eye colors, charcoal, obsidian, even silver to match their hair, but Michael had green eyes. His skin was pinker, his face a little fuller, but if he had opted for eye implants and colored his hair, he might have passed off as one of them. His green eyes scanned the other faces around him, always on guard for those who didn't care for him. Instead, he met the always inquisitive gaze of sparkling obsidian. Lady Arianya was everything Michael was not. Michael was considered, by and large the child of charity. Aria was a handmaiden to the Queen. And yet, she always watched him, and whenever there was trouble brewing, when she could do nothing, she usually made sure a member of the Queen's staff was near at hand to stop it. Only the most observant had noticed Aria's obsession, and Michael would be one of them.

At the age of eighteen summers, he had been enlisted in the Queen's Guard. It was considered a huge honor for one such as him, an Offworlder. He had treasured the opportunity it presented to be nearer to Aria, for though they were rarely allowed to speak, he, too, had taken to watching out for her.

Of all the young Lalatians wandering in the Queen's Courtyard, only Melar noticed the silent interaction. Melar was Michael's age, and an officer in the Queen's Guard, but he was also the nephew of the man who was responsible for Michael's good fortune. He had grown to resent Michael more than any other Lalatian resented the presence of the OffWorlders. He had made it one of his life's purposes to make Michael's life difficult, and now he narrowed his focus to Aria.

At the age of twenty, every Lalatian was married. With less than two years to go, the requests for Aria's hand were numerous, but the Queen had a soft spot for the budding scientist, and it looked as though Aria might be one of the few who passed her marriage year untouched. It would take a person of wealth and standing to even attempt to sway the Queen, and both boys knew it.

Without conscious thought that she was already starting the stage for a small war, Aria got to her feet, followed closely by the other handmaidens of her age. With a final tap on the tiny orb in her hand, she released a holographic bird high up into the sky. With bright blue feathers, silver eyes, and golden talons, it was unlike anything found on Michael's world, but it was the Queen's creature, the Naufra. Everyone in the courtyard stopped what they were doing to watch the bird's progress. Aria smiled in satisfaction as it circled lazily before coming back down to her, landing in her hand as the tiny sphere. A loud round of applause broke out, and she gave a tiny curtsy at the approval.

"Tell me you're not planning to win the next festival with that," said Melar, coming to stand before her. He crossed his arms contemptuously. Though he wanted Aria as his bride for her status and to spite Michael, he had no value for the brain behind the beauty.

"Why would I tell you what I plan to do, Melar?" she asked in her soft, quiet tone. "You've already tried to overwrite my computer twice this month."

His smug expression slipped, but then he remembered he had tried three times, and the smirk returned. "What of it? You're already the chosen child of the Queen, why keep all that money for yourself?"

"I don't plan to spend it," she replied, "if I should win, I have made no secret that I plan to use my money for charity causes."

Melar's gaze darted to Michael. Michael had not risen from his seat. By all appearances, he was deep in study from his tablet, but his green eyes darted up, and he hadn't missed a beat. "Like that one?" Melar sneered.

Aria's pale face flushed, but she stood her ground. "If you were truly talented enough to take me, Melar, you wouldn't need to stoop to stealing. Oh, and bribing the guard on duty does not count as an attempt. That's just sad and pathetic."

Her words made him flinch. So she had caught the third attempt. Furious to be made fun of in public, he wrenched the sphere from her hands and smashed it beneath her boot. She cried out and collapsed down to pick up the fragments. The handmaidens tried to help her, two began berating him. He simply smiled down at Aria.

"Rumor has it you only make one, and you never have a back up, good luck putting those pieces back together again." He turned smugly and came face to face with Michael. "What do you want, freak?"

"An apology would be a good start," replied Michael calmly.

"To you? Ha! I have better things to do than to try and kiss the filthy boots of an Offworlder."

Their spectacle was starting to draw a crowd, and Aria couldn't repress a shiver of fear. Everyone knew how twisted Melar could be, and she was too far to gather any help. She got to her feet with what bits of her creation she could salvage. "Melar, leave him be."

Melar spun, his black eyes taunting. "Or what, Lady Aria?" Before anyone could react, Melar swung around and caught Michael full in the chest with his outstretched palm. Shaking his wrist band to life that every male Lalatian who served the Queen was equipped with, Melar held the power source up to suspend Michael above the air.  Aria wrenched his palm down, but she hadn't realized where Michael had been thrown to. In horror, everyone who had gathered watched as Michael dropped down the cobalt staircase. Aria raced a step forward, but one of the handmaidens beside her caught her arm.

"Just wait," whipsered Lesset with a private smile.

Aria stared hard at the other girl, but at the outbreak of even more excited voices, she turned back to the staircase. In one giant bound, Michael landed back in the courtyard. He went down to one knee to balance himself, but the feat was beyond remarkable. Even Melar could not quite comprehend what he was seeing.

"It has to do with Offworlder's gravity," whispered Lesset to Aria. "My great uncle showed me once."

Aria was still too stunned to immediately react to this startling fact that Lesset had just admitted to. It was long ago rumored that the Lalatians and the Humans of Earth had been related, and a few Offworlder's had found their way back to Lalat after the destruction of their world, but it was rarer still to be related to one. Michael came over to the still shocked Melar.

"Care to try again?" he asked darkly.

Melar reacted before thinking, but this time Michael was ready for it. He dodged the energy blast, rolling down and away before leaping high and over Melar's head. He landed behind the other boy and in one brutal motion, he had the power pack severed and in his hand. He turned to Aria then, and her heart stopped for a second. With a slightly sheepish smile, he handed over the now worthless power cords of Melar's best defense.

"Here, my lady. In lieu of an apology."

She nodded tentatively and took the offering. "Thank you," she said softly. Looking down at the scope of what Melar had had, she felt a smile blossom. "Something tells me this might set him back a few days." Glancing back at Michael, she was rattled by a jolt of awareness at his returning smile.

"As always, I am at your service." He swept a quick bow before making good his escape as the adults came swarming in. Aria was whisked back to her rooms with the other handmaidens, spending the rest of her time indoors in her own private lab. The handmaidens were seen as near royalty in the Lalatian society. Often from wealthy families, they were chosen based on their abilities in the realm of their studies. Queen Baracia was a great fan of the sciences, and she adored Aria's little treats, with a hope for something greater to come.

After that first day, an illicit stirring of rebellion triggered within Aria. She had always been a gifted child, and she had joined the handmaidens at the very young age of seven, but she had ceased to have time to herself from then on. It had not rankled until that summer, and by the time the short warmth ended in favor of the long freeze, she had grown nearly mad from the confinement. She took to smuggling herself out of her own laboratory for a quiet hour away, but that was soon found out. All winter long, she struggled to come up with an escape, finally starting a project that would define her.