Large, flowing spires rose sharply from the sunlit streets, supporting a litany of twisting turrets of smooth, white stone. Banners crackled above domed roofs on the spires, caught continually in the cool breeze pouring from the nearby mountains. Between the buildings, interlocking like an intricate web of capillaries spreading across the city’s majestic body, pedestrian walkways linked the spires’ peaks and wound down their length.
As Keryn watched, Avalons launched from the topmost balconies of the spires, spreading their wings and gliding from building to building on the warm updrafts generated from the streets below. Between catwalks buzzing with foot traffic and soaring Avalons in the air, the city seemed alive, like a constantly shifting, writhing organism. The Avalon home world was everything she expected.
Watching through the narrow portcullis of the civilian transport, she saw the tall spires drop away, as they approached the edge of the lake, giving way to luscious green grass. The edges of the green lawns were traced by ground-level sidewalks that led to a massive, four-story brick structure that covered nearly a half-mile of property along the shore. To the building’s periphery sat enormous hangar bays, their retractable roofs glistening in the warm air.
The civilian transport passed over the green fields and angled toward a flat section of poured concrete marked with alternating blue and yellow lights that chased each other around the perimeter of the square landing zone. Firing its maneuvering rockets, the transport changed trajectory one last time before settling smoothly to the ground.
The few other students onboard stood and collected their gear. Keryn nervously tugged on her light gray cadet’s uniform, as she wanted for the crowd to thin before standing and pulling her duffel bag free from the overhead compartment. Many other students struck up friendly conversations with each other and joked about the long journey to Arcendor. Occasionally, they gave Keryn an odd look, obviously surprised to see a Wyndgaart at the Academy. Feeling surprisingly exposed and out of place, she readjusted her confining uniform jacket one last time before falling into line with the exiting cadets.
Squinting against the bright light, she savored the warmth of the Arcendus sun, as she stepped off the cramped transport. The trip was cold, made doubly so by the Oterian sitting nearby, who insisted on keeping cool air on his furry body at all times. Keryn couldn’t remember the last time she felt so cold, having spent her entire life enjoying the constant temperatures of the Wyndgaart home world. Still, she knew she was in for a new series of experiences and adventures, as she began pilot training.
Having no guidance from the transport crew, the cadets gathered outside the ship. Breaking into cliques often separated by race, they talked and gossiped among themselves. More than once, Keryn saw a finger point at her. Frowning, she walked around the side of the ship, leaned against its heated metal exterior, and soaked in the sun’s rays.
After resting for less than a minute, she heard a commotion stop at the back of the plane, as the group fell into harsh silence. Sticking her head around the rear of the ship, she watched a pale-skinned Avalon garbed in a black uniform, step before the gaggle of cadets.
“Cadets!” she shouted. “Fall in!”
Hurrying to join the others, Keryn stood in the rear of four rows, as the cadets jostled for position in the lines.
“Let me be the first to welcome you all to the Alliance Fleet Academy,” the Avalon said. “My name is Magistrate Victoria, but you may call me Ma’am. I’ll be one of your primary instructors for the first year. Some of your faces are familiar to me, your families having long-standing legacies here at the Academy. For some in this crowd, your families have as many as eight generations of previous graduates from this institution.”
A smug Avalon female one row ahead of Keryn smiled confidently. Nudging the Uligart female beside her, she winked.
“Let me explain something right away,” Victoria said sternly. “I don't care who your family is or how well you did in school before your acceptance to the Academy.”
The smile on the Avalon student’s face disappeared.
“As far as I’m concerned, every one of you is inept and inexperienced. My job is to take your shapeless putty and mold you into a group of talented pilots who’ll do the Fleet proud. Perform well, and you’ll be rewarded. Perform poorly, and I’ll kick you from this program no matter who your mommy or daddy is. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” a few students muttered.
The others stared in stunned silence. For many, it was the first time, though certainly not the last, they were talked down to as if they were insignificant.
“I didn't hear you!” Victoria shouted.
“Yes, Ma’am!” they replied.
“Good. Everyone follow me inside for your official welcome and orientation to our grounds.” She walked away.
Slowly, the first few ranks broke loose and followed, leading the way for the others to hurry after them. Keryn smiled, as she jogged to catch up to the pack. Though still nervous, she at least found someone she could respect in Magistrate Victoria.
Victoria led them past the central monument on the campus, a larger-than-life bronze statue of a muscular Avalon holding a tall spear. A bronze banner ran from the spear, fluttering in the never-ending wind. Inscribed on it were words written in the flowing Avalon home dialect.
“Shirath Esquideuz Pithyas,” Keryn read aloud. Turning to the cadet beside her, a broad-shouldered Oterian, she asked, “What does it mean?”
With little more than a grunt, the Oterian shrugged and increased his pace, leaving her behind. Looking over her shoulder, she glanced back at the statue once more, memorizing the words to ask about later.
Passing through vaulting double doors trimmed in intricately carved avian figures, the cadets entered the Academy’s main hall. They dropped their duffel bags in a growing pile beside the door before moving deeper into the hall. The expansive foyer was framed on either side by a tall staircase leading to a second floor. From the second-floor landing, clusters of older cadets watched the newcomers enter. They called out to friends and joked about the looks of others.
Lowering her head and letting her silver hair cascade over her telling tattoos, Keryn hid herself in the midst of the clustered cadets, as they cleared the foyer. Through a second set of doors, they entered the rear of an auditorium.
Plush purple cushions lined the rows of theater seats that looked down on a distal podium flanked on either side by large screens projecting the image of the empty stage. Dozens of other students already filled the auditorium. Keryn’s flight was one of the last to arrive.
Her group spilt off, joining friends and family around the room. Uninterested in finding kindred spirits and knowing there was no chance of seeing another Wyndgaart at the Academy in her year group, she settled for searching for an empty seat. Most of the rows were full of cadets, their tailored gray uniforms hugging the curves of their figures. Keryn cursed herself for not knowing to get her uniform fitted. The ill-fitting jacket and pants hung baggy on her thin, athletic frame, filling out only at her bosom.
Spotting an empty seat on the left side of the theater, Keryn forced her way past the clustered cadets who malingered in the aisles. Brushing past the outstretched white wings of an Avalon, she stopped before the row that led to the empty seat. Before she could enter, she felt a thin hand press against her chest. Following the offending hand, she found herself face-to-face with the smug Avalon female from outside. Behind her, a cadre of chattering females exuded pompous arrogance.