On December 14th, 2014 (Standard Earthen Year), The streets of seijano ran red,

Well, more specifically the marble-and-quartz stage located on the south wing of the palace. The stage, though originally intended for city-wide announcements and proclamations, was used for public executions ever since the Naelions fell out of power. Many innocent men have died on the gleaming white floors of the stage, and today there was one more, the crown prince and king-to-be himself, Noran Sorakot of the planet Seijano

The citizens of Seijano watched in horror and shock as Noran’s blood started to spill off the stage and into the crowd below. Noran wasn’t supposed to die today- the only person that was was a petty thief who went by the name of Crow Locust. That was, after all, what they had gathered for. However, things hadn’t gone as planned, because Crow was still alive, albeit locked up and restrained by one of the palace guards, and Noran was on the floor, dead and slowly bleeding out.

The killer was standing over Noran’s body, her hands over her mouth in shock, like she could barely believed she had actually killed the heir to the throne. She was called Glass, and she was an aeribisque, one of the million slaves in service to the royal court of seijano. Glass was Noran’s personal assistant, and had been in service to him for seventeen years now. Two years ago, something snapped inside her, and she started to plan out ways to end his life. Of course, she wasn’t planning to do it in front of two million citizens who idolized Prince Noran, not to mention the forty-something armed palace guards.

The guards, were in fact, about as shocked as Glass herself. None of them were that well trained in taking down aeribisques, and not one of them was expecting Noran to die. So none of them moved a muscle, patiently waiting for Glass to make the first move. The planet of Seijano stood in silence and waiting for moments, each seeming to last for an eternity.

Well, almost the entire planet of Seijano stood in silence. The only exception was Lucius Naol, a young palace guard-in-training. Lucius had attended the execution as part of his training- it was his duty to make sure that no harm befall the prince. And harm had indeed, befallen the prince.

Lucius approached Glass from the back, slowly drawing his blade. An ordinary blade wouldn’t be enough to kill an aeribisque on contact, but with just the right angle and drive, it might be enough to immobilize one.

Something gave Lucius’ position away. Maybe it was the sound of his black leather, steel-soled boots, or maybe it was the sound of his hot, heavy breath. Maybe it aeribisques have a sort of unknown psychic ability and Glass sensed his presence as he moved closer to her. Or maybe, just maybe, it was a simple moment of chance, and Glass just happened to turn around just as Lucius was about to drive his knife into her bone-like body. Whatever the causation was, it happened, and Glass turned around to face Lucius. She wasn’t hiding her face anymore. The look of fear seemed gone from her face, replaced by a blank, neutral expression. As soon as she made eye contact with Lucius, she bolted, running straight off of the stage and into the crowd below.

Aeribisques are known for being light on their feet, and Glass was no exception to that rule. She moved through the pack of civilians with ease, barely having to shove her way through the crowd due to her light frame. Glass was fairly certain Lucius was following her, but she hadn’t the time to turn around and check, so she kept running. As Glass ran, the crowd’s state of shock morphed into one of panic and fear. The citizens moved away from the aeribisque as she moved through the crowd, like she had the plague.

Eventually Glass broke out of the crowd and into the empty city streets. She kept running, certain that Lucius was only three steps behind her. She had to keep running, her very life depended on it. Not like aeribisques had that much of a life to begin with.

Eventually, Glass reached a cliff that overlooked a dark, cavernous city. The underlevels, notorious for housing the galaxy's most wanted criminals. Glass had never been there personally, having spent most of her life so far behind the palace walls, but she had heard many rumors about it- the main idea of them being that if you were ever in trouble, The sound of Lucius’ footsteps grew closer as Glass stood on the edge. There was a building close enough to the cliff’s edge that if someone jumped with enough force, could land on safely and continue parkouring into the deep underlevels. It was a risk, but it wasn’t the most risky impulsive decision Glass had made in the last hour. Without turning to see if Lucius was still following her, Glass leaped off the cliff and into the underlevels below

The underlevels of Seijano never sleep. It’s not to say that it’s always daytime, it’s quite the opposite. The deep underlevels existed in a perpetual state of late night, the kind of night where anything and everything could happen.

A prime example of this fact was the club formally known as the Nova Lockling, but only referred to as the NL thirty-six. Nova Lockling was a bar/nightclub, and like many of its kind, was regularly visited by a slew of criminals, thugs, and gang members. It’s the kind of place one’s parents warn their children never to get involved in. What made Nova Lockling stand out from the rest of the nightclubs in he area was that Nova Lockling, on every fourth day, starting at 7, Nova hosted a fighting ring, where drunk patrons could pay to see if they could best the infamous Rook in a fist-fight. It was both extremely profitable and extremely illegal.

One such patron was Elepha Quilve, though she was quite sober. Her friends, who were drunk, had dared her to enter the competition, and Elepha had a reputation of never turning down a dare that she planned to keep up.

Elepha found herself in a cage-like structure that led into the fighting ring. The floor of the ring was stone, she noted. That’s going to hurt. All around her were the shouts and jeers of the patrons, all pumped up to see the fight. Across the ring was another cage of a different design, this one seemingly more fortified. It was a shadowy structure, and all Elepha could make out were two golden, almost glowing eyes, seeming to pierce into her soul.

Elepha was starting to regret taking that dare.

One of the bartenders climbed up onto the fence that separated the ring from the spectators. “WHO’S READY FOR FIGHT NIGHT?!” They shouted into their microphone, emphasizing the last two words. As cheers erupted from the crowd, the bartender beamed. Elepha felt a sinking feeling in her gut.

“On our left we have Elepha Quilve, who has bravely volunteered for tonight’s brawl.” The bartender gestured to the cage Elepha was standing in.

“AAAAAAA-nd on our right we have our very own Rook! You know him, you love him, he’s never lost a fight to-date!” The bartender continued as Rook stood up.

The bartender speant a few more moments amping up the crowd. Elepha was really thinking she shouldn’t have taken this dare.

“AT THE COUNT OF THREE, THE FIGHT STARTS!” The bartender barked into the microphone. “ONE!”

Elepha tensed, preparing herself for the fight.

“TWO!”

On the other side of the ring, Rook was waiting near the entrance to his cage. Still, only his eyes were visible.

“THREE!” The bartender shouted. Somewhere in the room, an air horn sounded. The doors of both cages opened, and fight night officially began.

Somehow, Elepha managed to summon up the courage to enter the ring. As soon as Rook came into the light everyone’s attention was fixated on him.

Rook was a tall, muscular man, with tannish, scarred skin. His jet-black hair was cut in a messy bob. Rook’s eyes were as piercing in the light as they had been in the dark, and held a warhammer about as large as Elepha’s head in his hand- scratch that, it was much bigger.

At this point, Elepha was really regretting her life decisions. “Hey-” she stammered. “Rook. Nice to-”

Rook grabbed Elepha by the shoulder and slammed her into the ground, cutting off her introduction. The crowd cheered. Elepha was pretty sure she broke a few ribs.

“Is she… still alive?” the bartender near-whispered into the microphone.

Elepha could see Rook standing over her, his expression neutral. She kicked him in the stomach.

Even though Elepha was weaker and had kicked with less force, her hit did manage to send Rook back a few steps. As he retreated, she stood up, clutching her side.

Rook stepped up to Elepha and punched her in the gut, thrusting her to the fencing. Some of the spectators pushed her back into the ring.

Struggling to keep her footing, Elepha approached Rook and punched him in the nose. He retaliated for a moment, enough time for Elepha to catch her breath and step away. In that moment, Elepha Quilve felt a moment of confidence, as if maybe she could win this fight after all.

Then, Rook striked again. He thrust her to the ground again but instead of leaving her there to recover, Rook kept punching her. Elepha could hear the bones in her body fracture. She was really, really regretting taking the dare.

Rook stoodn back, seemingly to catch his breath. Elepha’s vision was fading, but she could see one thing before she blacked out- Rook’s hammer being swung towards her face.

It took Sylve, the bartender, three hours to usher everyone out of Nova Locksling, not to mention cleaning up the body.

After they were certain that nobody else was in the bar, she grabbed a bowl of stew leftover from the rush hour and walked over to Rook’s cage.

“Hey, Eli.” Sylve greeted, opening the gate door. Rook turned around to face them.

“Hey.” He responded, his voice low and soft.

Sylve handed him the bowl, then sat down. They watched as Rook slowly ate the meal, not making eye contact (or any form of contact at that).

“So….” Sylve’s voice trailed off as they leaned back, relaxing their posture in order to try to relax the conversation. “You were pretty rough on that girl earlier…”

Rook stopped eating. “Did I kill her?” He said gravely, the smallest hint of fear in his voice.

Sylve bit their tongue, wishing they hadn’t brought up the topic. “Well…..”

“Did I?” Rook repeated, more urgently this time.

“Yes. You did.” Sylve said bluntly. Keeping secrets from Elias Rook wasn’t a good idea, they had learned that a while ago, when Elias had first come into their care.

Elias looked down into his soup bowl. “I’m sorry. It happened again.”

Sylve sat up, preparing to embrace Elias with a flurry of hugs and reassurance, but they stopped themself. They had to remember that Elias was easily provoked and very dangerous. Instead, they opted for a simpler route. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t put you through this… it’s too much.”

“You’ll lose sales if I don’t.” was Elias’ reply.

“I could get someone else to do the fighting… you could take a break… maybe relax some…”

“I need to earn my keep here.”

“Maybe you could help with other things… we always need more cooks…”

“I’m built for fighting.” Elias said sternly, clutching his arm. “That’s the only thing I’m good for.”

Sylve bit their lip, stopping themselves yet again from bursting into a motivational, comforting speech. They pulled a handkerchief out of their breast pocket and held it up to Elias’ face. “Here.” they said, starting to clean the dirt, grime, and dried blood off his face. “You’ve still got some blood there.”

Elias stood still, letting Sylve clean his face. “...Thanks.” He said.

Sylve smiled. “No problem.” After a moment of shared, tender silence, Sylve spoke up again. “Well…. It’s a nice night. You wanna go outside and get some fresh air?”

Elias nodded. “That would be nice.”

The night air outside was thick with humidity and smog, but if you looked hard enough at the sky, you could just make out the constellations above. The streets were mostly empty- bar-going hours had ended a while ago and pretty much everyone was either unconscious or hungover.

Sylve smiled. It was times like these that made living in the underlevels worth it. Most common civilians were afraid of the underlevels due to their criminal nature, but if you could get over that it was a really nice break from the constant hustle and bustle of normal city life.

“So… you hear what happened to the prince earlier today?” They asked, attempting to make smalltalk.

“You told me earlier.” Elias responded.

Sylve nodded. “That I did….” They trailed off again. “Hey Elias?” Sylve asked.

“Yeah?” The man responded.

“I just… Thanks for sticking me for all this time. It’s been a long while since anyone has.”

Elias smiled. “.... thank you, too.”

Sylve smiled back. “No problem, buddy. I’m gonna go back to the shop if that’s cool with you.”

Elias nodded. “I think I’ll stay out here some more.”

If aeribisques could breathe, Glass would be breathless. Spending the last few hours being chased by an entourage of angry palace guards wasn’t the ideal condition to be figuring out your future in, yet they were the conditions Glass had forced herself to be in.

In the seijanon underlevels (where Glass currently found herself), the pollution in the sky was so thick it looked like night, not that the heavy smog bothered Glass. She didn’t need to breathe, after all. Neon lights advertising everything from bars to strip clubs to jewelry shops reflected in puddles of rank, mysterious liquids.

Glass glanced behind her. Just as she thought- she was only one on the street. She had lost Lucius a while back after she had crammed her way through a few small alleyways that he couldn’t follow through. Being an aeribisque did have its perks, aside from the whole galactic-slavery thing.

Glass caught sight of another person, standing in front of a now-closed nightclub. The sign above the door read- in flashing neon red- Nova Lockling. Having no other place to seek refuge, Glass approached the door.

She didn’t see him at first- the man blended a bit too well into the shadows of the dim twilight. It was his golden, almost glowing eyes that gave him away.

The man was about two feet too tall to be a seijanon, and his hair was dark and messy. Once his eyes met Glass’, he stepped back, like a deer running from a wolf. He must’ve recognized her- of course Glass would’ve made the news, she murdered the prince of seijano in front of the entire planet.

Glass defensively raised her hands in surrender. “I won’t hurt you I swear!” She stated sharply but softly.

“You’re the porcelain that made the news…” the man said, seeming shocked. Glass winced a bit at his word choice, but nodded. She whispered, “The guards are on my trail. Can you help me?”

The man nodded solemnly, then started to walk into the dark safety of the alleyway, gesturing for Glass to follow. She did.

“Sit here.” The golden-eyed man said as he sat down, motioning for Glass to sit next to him. It was a good thing that the mystery man took up so much more space than Glass did; she could hide behind him with little chance of being seen

Glass was about to thank the man for helping her, but she cut herself off at the sound of approaching footsteps. The man heard them too- Glass could tell because his breathing quieted to near silence.

The guards entered the square, their footsteps rubber toys bouncing off the city walls. Glass felt inclined to lean forward and see them for herself, but through fear she restrained herself. If she could see them, the could see her and if they saw her they’d send her back and it would be the end. Self-preservation is quite a good motive for anything.

The man guarding Glass was also growing nervous as the guards patrolled the area- Glass could hear his heartbeat grow increasingly louder and more frequent. Moments felt like an eternity as the stat in silence, neither one daring to move a fraction of an inch.

Eventually, the sound of footsteps resumed and faded out into the night, signifying the guards had left the palace. “They’re gone” The man confirmed, looking into the plaza but not getting up.

Glass relaxed, feeling relieved. “Thank the stars.” she said, still in a hushed voice. “I’m Glass, by the way.”

“Elias.” the man responded.

Glass nodded in affirment, unsure of what to say next. “Thanks for helping me. Not many people think of helping people like me.”

“Criminals?” Elias asked.

“Aeribisques.” Glass responded, a hint of dryness to her somber tone.

“Oh… yeah.” Elias responded. “Sorry.”

“That’s why I’m running. To be able to make my own life as my own person.”

“Seems like a valid reason to run away.”

“Seems like a valid reason to run away.”

Elias chuckled. “Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ll have to refuse it. I’ve got… people here.”

“Your family?” The aeribisque asked.

“No, don’t have one of those. Not anymore.”

“Same.” Glass said. “Well, I never had one to begin with but similar boat."

Elias laughed again. “Tell you what. I’ll get you to the spaceport in the morning and you can stowaway in the cargo load. That’ll get the guards off your back and kickstart that new life of yours.

Glass smiled. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

The two laughed for a few moments at nothing in particular, then a peaceful silence dawned on them as they watched the barely-visible stars together, covered by a thick blanket of smog.