“One cannot choose to be a lancer. One must be chosen.”

—Old lancer proverb

Zaina’s eyes opened slowly. A lone spark of blurry light caught her attention. She groaned and rubbed her eyes, and when she opened them again the light became a low-burning campfire.

The Raolgrian was cooking a large skewer of meat; Kitali sat by his side. The newcomer was babbling to the limphor as Zaina sat up. Kitali ran to her and licked her hands and face.

Zaina smiled weakly and pulled her in for a hug. “Yes, girl, yes—I’m all right.”

“Welcome back to the world of the living,” the Raolgrian said with an amused grin.

Zaina slowly stood and shuffled over to the fire, sitting across from the Raolgrian. Her nose wrinkled after taking in a whiff of the meat’s sour odor. She shuddered and quietly asked, “How long was I out?”

“Not long. An hour at most.”

She nodded. “Um—thank you, by the way. For saving Kitali and me back there. I’m Zaina—Zaina Quin.”

Turning the spit on the fire, he said, “My name is Girxorgian of clan Ra-Folgoth, but most call me Gir. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Zaina Quin.”

“And—you’re a lancer?”

“Yes.” Gir stared at her with an odd expression. She absentmindedly touched her cheek.

“What, do I have something on my face?” she asked, then froze. In all the chaos, she’d forgotten the blackened skin around her eye.

“Yes, you do,” he said in a quiet voice, his vocal muscles visibly clicking in his throat. “I think you and I have much to discuss.”

Questions were brimming in Zaina’s brain, waiting to spill out. Finally, some answers. Holding the torrent at bay, she replied, “Okay—yeah. So, where do we start?”

“The first thing we should discuss,” Gir said, meeting her gaze, “is how you’re feeling. I’m sure it hasn’t been an easy past few days for you.”

“Yeah,” she replied, turning to stare into the fire. “I don’t understand what’s happening. I’m—I’ve changed, somehow, and—and it scares me. I don’t know what happened to my family, and I—I don’t know what to do.”

Gir nodded. “I’m sorry for all you’ve suffered. I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”

“I don’t think I can either,” she said. “It’s all a jumbled mess.” Her spirit sank. “Did you—do you know anything about the evacuation?”

“Yes,” he replied. “No casualties on the ships. From what I understand the evacuees are scheduled for resettlement on Demori, in the neighboring star system. It’s similar in climate, ecosystem, and population. They’ll find their new normal in no time.”

Zaina exhaled a sigh of relief. At least her family was far away from all this.

Gir continued, “If you don’t mind me asking—how are you even here? I was under the impression that no one was left on the planet’s surface. I did hear there was an incident, but it was assumed there were no survivors.”

Zaina stared at the fire. An incident, he says.

“So,” she said, “my parents think I’m dead.”

The Raolgrian grimly nodded. Zaina’s heart sank thinking of her poor mother and father. They had to be heartbroken—all the more reason for Zaina to reach them.

A swell of rage coursed through her out of nowhere. It stung at the inside of her skin and heated her blood; the voices, low and buzzing, suggested a variety of methods for killing the lancer. Her body overflowed with energy, making her feel capable of anything.

She jammed her eyes shut. “Stop!”

The whispering ceased, and the sensation faded. Zaina took a deep breath and met the Raolgrian’s confused gaze. In a concerned tone, he asked, “You all right?”

“Yeah—sorry. Everything was kind of replaying, is all.”

“Ah. Right. Well, if you’d rather not talk about it—”

“No. No, it’s fine.” After taking a moment to gather herself, she said, “That thing—whatever came here—and Beni, the—well, you met Beni; they were attacking as the transports were getting ready to leave. I figured I could draw them away from everyone. I guess they were more interested in me than the ships, because it worked.”

“I see,” he replied, rubbing his chin. “If it’s not a step too far, how did you get away?”

A sigh escaped her lips. “That’s the part I still don’t understand. I remember running into the forest, and Beni followed me, so I kept going until I saw a light in the distance. I went toward it. When I reached it I found...” Her voice trailed off as her mind searched for words to describe what she’d encountered. “Something. I don’t know what. It was like a light, but—not. If that makes sense. And I kind of—I don’t know, I—I fell into it, and then, I woke up.”

Gir leaned back, and one of his scaly, four-clawed hands reached up to stroke his chin. “Most curious—most curious indeed.”

Annoyed, Zaina demanded, “What?”

In a measured, slow tone, he replied, “The experience you describe sounds like exposure to a Riiva Fragment.”

“Exposure? Am I sick?”

“No,” he replied. “Quite the opposite—I’m sure you’re stronger and faster than you’ve ever been.”

“Yeah, how did you know that?”

Gir’s eyes settled on the fire again. “You don’t know much about lancers, do you?”

“Only what I heard from stories,” she said. “We always huddle up around the furnace when a cold swell hits, and Mom and Dad tell stories. When I was old enough—and when my brother and sister went to sleep for the night—Dad told me stories from the war. According to him, lancers are mystical warriors. He said they can summon swords made of pure light and control the elements. ‘The strongest warriors in the galaxy,’ he used to call them. I hear pathfinders are stronger, though.”

Gir chuckled. “I’ve heard the same.”

“Apparently, my Dad was saved by a lancer twice at the Battle of Hyderon Rim.” A question ate at the back of Zaina’s mind, so she asked it. “Do you—do you know what’s happening here? What’s happening to me?”

“I have some idea, yes,” Gir replied, then met her eyes. “We should begin with you. Specifically, your experience with the Riiva Fragment.”

Zaina nodded, but her mind was swirling. “You’ve said that before. What is it?”

The Raolgrian continued, “Riiva is the underpinning of the universe—the strands of resonant energy that hold everything together. It’s beyond our capacity to understand. It appears throughout the galaxy as patches of woven light—called Riiva Fragments. Every lancer, and every scholar, has encountered one of these fragments, from which their abilities manifest. My experience with Riiva was indescribable. Even now I can’t make sense of it. But the gifts that experience gave me have allowed me to serve the commonwealth of the galaxy. And now Riiva has chosen you to bear those gifts.”