CIRCE

ii

The Ruins are an expansive stretch of ashen rubble and broken bits of carved art. It resides in one of the least populated areas within The Eijoa, sleeping among worn-over footpaths and overgrown vegetation like the half-buried remains of an antiquated beast. Though its name isn't too creative, there needn't be a more creative name. The Ruins are the only such place within the entire nation, tucked away in the southwestern Eijoa.

The Eijoans have been carefully observing it for the past seventy-five years, first on the previous Pathfinder's orders and now on Lonan's. Archeologists have tried to excavate and explore, but to the devoutly religious, the Ruins are too valuable to risk any damage to. They're the only remnants of the Old World, the Circe before Anrhe's Plight. The only reason they stand here now is because of human curiosity and the incessant albeit polite pleading of UNISED to explore.

Lonan is silent as she watches over the exploratory party. She clings to the back of the group, a safe distance away, yet Tannier's glower toward the humans hasn't faltered from where he stands at her side. There aren't too many humans. Just Commander Rinn, a science officer, a medic, and three security officers. The Eijoans have number on them with Lonan, Tannier, a Bloodmender, and four guards, which gives Lonan a slight peace of mind.

However, the humans don't move with the same heedfulness as they do. While her people cling to what's left of the paths and take careful steps, the humans fan out to feed their intrigue, overtaking the Eijoans like curious mice starved of knowledge. One of them has even a far lead, aiming for the center of The Ruins. Abbaas, she believes he is called, their science officer. The Ruins don't hold the same weight for them as it does the Eijoan people. To the humans, it's nothing but another object of fascination, a feed for their curiosity. It irks her, yet Lonan remains veiled beneath her mask of stoicism, unfeeling and unrevealing.

Commander Rinn makes a discreet change in pace, falling back to walk at Lonan's open side. Neither are unaware of how Tannier's glare turns to her.

"I have heard people mention disaster," Commander Rinn says.

She is close to fluent in the language of Joa, the native tongue of The Eijoa. There's an accent to her Joa that roughens it a bit, a light, musical language by nature that opposes English's thicker, more gravelly cadence. Still, Commander Rinn's Joa is better than Lonan's English.

"Anhre's Plight," Lonan says. "Seventy-five years ago. It's what left these ruins behind. Remnants of the Old World."

"Our head scientist, Abbaas," Commander Rinn gesture to the man at the head of the group, "is engrossed by your history. This is exciting for him."

Which must be why he's taken such a far venture ahead. His intent appears to be focused on the center of The Ruins where the framework of what was once a vast building sits in crumbling decay. The others, both human and ardean, remain content in their leisurely pace. Except for one. A larger human, a similar size to Tannier but with chin-length black hair and a pale complexion, keeps a watchful eye on Abbaas. Must be a security officer.

"And the others?" Lonan asks.

While Abbaas and his tail seem merely curious, there is one human in particular Lonan's attention draw to again and again. That human marches at the edge of the group, her head on a constant swivel that swishes her ponytail of blonde hair. Her build is muscular, that of some fighter, and her complexion is a light beige, tanned by the sun and textured by burn scarring on her left arm. She holds a phaser in her strong, steady grip, a weapon the humans brought that creates energy into bullets. Born of bloodlust, Lonan thinks. However, it is the woman's eyes that spark Lonan's wary intrigue. They're a muddy shade of brown, but it's sharpened by an acute survey of the world she passes through, so simplistically anodyne that they're almost cold.