Chapter 2

Taryn knelt in the deep, silent wilderness, surrounded by nothing but the rustling of leaves and the distant calls of unseen animals. Before him was a small, carefully balanced tower of three stones, each picked from the earth and placed there by his own hands.

The three stones represented the three worlds: the world of the gods, the world of the dead, and the world that lay between them both. As a Borraq warrior, Taryn stood in that last world, serving as a bridge between the dead and the divine.

He bowed his head.

Rael"s clan of Borraq were proud to live in their territory, with customs that stretched back thousands of years. Taryn was proud to be one of them, and he was proud to follow their customs. In a modern galaxy, full of technology and ever-shifting alliances, the Borraq offered something solid and unchanging. The customs were the same as they had always been, just as unyielding as the mountains that stretched through their lands.

Not all Borraq lived like this.

Taryn closed his eyes, and for just a moment, the world around him was replaced by a different sight.

He was on a battlefield, the air thick with the stench of blood and the sounds of men dying. Airen, his older brother, was at his side, just as he had always been in those terrible days. Together, they had fought in the Borraq"s war against the humans, cutting down their enemies with their blades.

And then, in a moment that had stretched on for an eternity, his brother was falling. Taryn had turned too late,

He"d screamed in pain. But there had been no one to answer. There was nothing in that moment except for the chaos of battle, the roaring of the humans, and the weight of a dead man in Taryn"s arms.

Taryn"s jaw tightened. He opened his eyes and shook his head, banishing the memory.

He reached for a flask at his side and poured a libation, offering it to the world of the spirits. The sweet scent of it filled the air, a heady mix of honey and something sharper. It was enough to please any spirit — and he knew that Airen would appreciate it.

Taryn carefully put the flask back at his side and bowed his head again. Despite the solemnity of the moment, his mouth twitched in a suppressed smile. Don"t imbibe too deeply, brother. Your singing would make the other spirits rage.

He raised a hand to the world of the dead, and then he bowed his head. The ritual was complete.

Taryn allowed himself a few moments of peace, and then he stood. It was time to head back to his charges.

Today, they were on the far-flung wilds of their territory"s eastern side, deep in the jungle. He had been accompanying four potential young warriors through the wilderness for a few weeks, teaching them everything they"d need to know to grow up into full-fledged warriors and make their clan proud. Bushcraft, resilience, foraging, tracking — he was filling their empty little heads with all that he knew.

Training the young ones was a task that made the other warriors groan. Hunting beasts and tracking outlaws: now that was where the glory was, not guiding gangly, not-yet-grown Borraq.

But Taryn had volunteered.

Taryn loved his clan. He loved his people, and he loved his place among them, in the village deep in the heart of their lands.

And that love was exactly why he was out here, as far away from that village as possible — and from one creature in particular.

Taryn rose from the ritual clearing, the scent of honey and spice still hanging in the air. He took a deep breath, steeling himself against the ache that lingered in his chest. The ritual had provided its usual measure of solace, but some wounds never fully healed.

His brother"s death at the hands of the humans still burned like an open wound. Each time Taryn closed his eyes, he was transported back to that fateful battlefield, cradling his brother"s broken body. If only he"d turned a little faster, been a little more aware…

The memory haunted him.

And that was why the presence of the human cut so deeply.

Rael, his clan leader, had seen fit to take a human as a mate. A human! He"d found the creature after a ship had crashed, leaving Elian the last survivor. Instead of killing Elian, Rael had let the scrawny, pale-skinned creature join the clan.

Taryn"s jaw clenched. How could Rael accept a human, knowing what they were doing to their kin on the front lines of the war? Didn"t Rael understand the threat the humans posed?

Elian"s shock of unruly curls and slight frame seemed almost laughable compared to the imposing physiques of the Borraq warriors. Rael seemed utterly in love, doting on the human and indulging his every whim.

Calling Elian his mate.

It made Taryn"s stomach churn.

That was why Taryn had volunteered to lead the patrol of young warriors to the farthest reaches of their lands. He needed to put as much distance as possible between himself and the human, lest his simmering rage boil over into open defiance of Rael"s foolish decision.

As Taryn made his way back towards the encampment, he couldn"t help but steal furtive glances over his shoulder. Out here, among the towering mountains and ancient forests, he felt at peace. This was the true heart of their world, the realm where a Borraq"s warrior spirit could roam free.

He would protect these lands with every fiber of his being, no matter the cost.

The humans had already taken too much from him. He would not allow them to take anything more.

"Taryn! You"re done already?" When Taryn returned to the camp, his young charges greeted him with a mix of respect and eager excitement.

They were a good group of lads: Jorah, with his easy grin and quick wit; Krye, who was always the first to spot any movement in the wilderness; Worrak, who had a growing sense for strategy despite his brash exterior; and Soren, the youngest of the group, who was eager to prove himself.

They were a handful, but Taryn wouldn"t have traded them for anything. In their youthful overconfidence, he saw echoes of every Borraq warrior who had come before them. They were the future of the clan.

And besides, they kept things interesting. As they prepared for their daily patrol, the air was filled with their banter. "I bet I could take down a karantha with just my dagger," Jorah boasted. "Two, even."

Krye rolled his eyes. "Yeah, good luck getting close enough to one to actually use your dagger. But I"ll have already put an arrow through its eye by the time you get within a hundred paces!"

"Enough boasting," Taryn said, though his lips twitched with the effort to keep a straight face. "The karantha are necessary for the forest. It"s not our place to seek out conflict with them. We"re here to protect the land from any outside threats that might come to harm them, not to act as hunters."

"Aww, come on," Jorah said with a grin. "You"re no fun, Taryn."

Taryn watched his warriors as they chattered and teased each other, a fond smile playing at his lips. They were a good group. Under his command, they would grow into fine warriors. They already had the raw materials of strength and skill; it was just a matter of honing that, teaching them when to act and when to hold back, guiding them as they matured into their roles.

As they set out into the wilderness, Taryn kept his eyes on his charges. Jorah was quick to boast and quicker to laugh, always the first to break the silence with a joke. Krye rolled his eyes at Jorah"s antics, but a small smile tugged at his lips. He was a good boy, with a keen eye for the wilderness. Soren was thoughtful, his eyes scanning the surroundings as he considered strategies. Worrak was the most eager of the group, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement at the day"s adventure.

The deep, ancient heart of the clan"s territory was a place of peace. Out here, there were no enemies to face, no battles to fight. It was the perfect training ground. Here, the young warriors could learn to track any creature that dared to threaten the clan"s lands, to identify any potential foes, to understand the lay of the land and the creatures that called it home.

Here, they could learn to be true guardians of the land.

Taryn wasn"t expecting any real danger on this mission. The lands were deep and wild, yes, full of creatures that could be deadly to an unprepared traveler — but nothing out of the ordinary. The truly most dangerous things on the planet were Borraq without clans, but those bounty hunters and lone wolves preferred sulking around outposts and cities, looking for cheap thrills and easy marks instead of trekking through deep jungle.

It was just a simple quest for training, that was all. A time to be spent in the heart of the wilderness, far from the encampment, far from clan politics and the weight of Taryn"s own personal frustrations.

A time for peace.

Taryn frowned as he looked at a set of broken branches, the leaves around them crushed. It was a thick, sturdy tree, its branches not easily bent. Whatever had passed through here had done so with force.

The young warriors didn"t notice anything amiss. They were too busy laughing and joking, their eyes looking for excitement, not tracks.

Taryn"s hand tightened on the hilt of his blade. "Pause."

Despite their chatter, the boys were well-trained. They fell silent and turned to face him, their eyes expectant.

He pointed at the disturbed tree. "Look here. The branches are broken, and the leaves around them are crushed. Whatever passed through here did so with force."

The young warriors inspected the site, their faces thoughtful. "It"s not a zytha"s trail," Krye said. "I don"t see any tracks."

Soren looked annoyed, like Taryn was teasing him with a too-hard riddle. "I give up. What made it?"

"I don"t know," Taryn said.

Then they all heard it: the distant, unmistakable sound of machinery.