The trip to Earth should take about ten hours. By hour three, I was counting the stars we passed, the squares on the ceiling, even the hairs on my head at one point. My stomach growled, loud and low. As if it was trying to claw its way out. I have nothing to do right now, might as well get up and explore.
Closing the door of my pod, I scanned the hall for the nearest transporter plaque. It glowed in the corner, pulsing faintly. It still amazed me that Mars hadn't adopted this tech yet. We still relied on giant teleportation stations planted in the middle of town squares.
Every planet had its thing. Mars was all about combat, ancestry and tradition. Warriors by birthright. Earth? They were known for tech. Always inventing, always rocketing forward. Minds always racing. Maybe it had something to do with them being without an ability.
I stepped onto the plaque.
"Where would you like to go?"
"The dining hall, please."
A tingling raced through my skin, blurring my vision until the world reassembled itself. The dining hall buzzed with students. Voices layered over each other, different dialects blending into one restless hum.
The smell hit me first. Very rich. Spicy. Smoky. My feet carried me toward a line of trays where women from across different planets served food, laughed and traded stories.
My eyes skimmed the menu. Plenty of Martian dishes, but a few names I didn't recognize. Hamburger. I wasn't allowed to eat it when I had trips to earth with my family. However, I tried one once back home, from a restaurant that claimed to serve 'authentic Earth cuisine.'
I grabbed a hamburger, added a bowl of warrior's stew, and finished with a bottle of ironroot fizz.
"Thanks," I murmured to the lady in front of me before turning to face the real challenge: finding somewhere to sit.
I'd been homeschooled my whole life and friends my age weren't exactly a thing. And now, in this room, everyone was already grouped up, leaning in close, laughing like they'd shared inside jokes forever. My chest tightened. Sitting alone would just announce to the room that I had no one.
Then I saw him. The boy from the exam. He was alone in the corner, head bent over his holophone. Relief loosened my shoulders. We'd interacted before so surely that counted as knowing each other. Better than looking like a loner.
I crossed the room. Murmurs followed me, eyes flicking up as if I was walking with my decapitated head in my hands.
"So you passed," I said, setting my tray down across from him.
He looked up, gaze sharp, voice flat. "What are you doing here?"
"Eating," I said, spoon clinking a little too loudly against my stew.
"There are other tables."
I forced a grin. "Yeah, but we know each other."
His stare didn't waver. "No, we don't."
I pressed my lips thin, then leaned forward, my elbows perched on the table. "Hi. I'm K'laniyah Marzu, but you can call me K'lani. Princess is acceptable but optional. And you are…?"
He sighed, dragging his eyes from me back to his holophone. "Kwairen Matson. My friends call me Kwai."
"Nice to meet you, Kwai."
"It's Kwairen."
"But you just said—"
"I didn't say we were friends."
I stabbed at my stew, rolling my eyes. "Right. Got it."
Silence thickens between us. I chewed, stealing glances at him. Something about his face. It tugged at me. The nose. The eyes. Like I'd seen him before. And those bracelets around his wrist? Too refined. The beads? Shabby in comparison.
The question slipped out before I could stop myself. "Where'd you get those bracelets?"
His fingers brushed them once, protective, before he dropped his hand. "My father forged them."
"Was he a jeweler? That makes him a noble, right? So why are you in commoner clothing?"
His eyes sharpened. "Commoner?"
His laugh was bitter. The legs of his chair screeched against the floor as he shoved back and stalked away.
"What did I say?" I called after him, too loud. Heads turned. Whispers spread.
I bit into the hamburger. The bread stuck dry in my throat.
Back in my pod, I locked the door behind me and kicked the furniture away from the nook. While abilities might be born into you, its strength only came from hard work. My tutors drilled that into me. An hour a day, minimum.
I settled cross-legged on the floor, steadied my breath until heat bubbled in my core. It traveled up, curling hot in my chest, pressing into my throat. I pursed my lips and exhaled. Fire spilled out, a thin, controlled stream.
When the flames faded, I switched focus. Summoning. My current limit was twenty weapons at once. Quite impressive for my age. I pictured the vault inside me. One by one, weapons flickered into existence around me, steel glinting in the low light.
I picked the katana and willed away the rest. I held it firmly, the heat raced down my arms, licking along the blade until fire curled at its tip. I moved. Each strike cut through the air. My tutors' voices barked in my memory: Strike harder. Defense. Breathe.
Sweat burnt trails down my face. Muscles ached. Still I swung, again and again, until my legs shook beneath me. By the end, I collapsed on the floor, sweat-soaked and trembling.
Dragging myself upright, I stumbled toward the teleport pod making my way back to the cafeteria. The vending machine spat out a bottle of water, which I clutched like a prize.
I wandered to a lounge I'd found earlier. Sofas shaped like planets circled around a bright sun-shaped rug. Cute.
Before I could step inside, a voice stopped me.
"Yes, Mom. I know."
Kwairen?
"No, Mom. Okay, I'll never let it happen again."
I froze, my ears pricked. What did he do?
"I understand. I won't disappoint you."