Chapter 3

Time passed so fast. Before Calsa knew it, her 17th birthday came and went. Her birthday was the only day she was allowed to rest. But since today wasn't her birthday, she was working like usual. Today, she was suppose to be getting water from the well for something special Alt had in mind. Whatever that "something special" was going to be, Calsa was sure she wouldn't like it.

"Oh hey, Cal!" Calsa looked behind her to see Jerako, one of only a few loose friends she had made in her years with the Ha'trin. She dropped the bucket down into the well as he came over to her. He was about her age, though everyone thought she was younger. She still had a boyish enough face to pull it off. "Master Alt still making you do nothing but chores, eh?"

Calsa shrugged. "Mostly chores. He talks a lot. But I'm beginning to get used to it. It gives me chances to nap with my eyes open."

Jerako laughed. "Oh boy, hope he doesn't hear about that! Hey, think you can get a little time off? All the rest of us were going to go to the lake and have a grand old time. I thought it would do you some good to get away from him for a little while."

Calsa looked at him and smiled. "That's awefully nice. I'll see if Master Alt will give me a few hours."

"You mean you two can come apart at the hips?" Calsa and Jerako looked over their shoulders at Bezin. He was a big boy, only one year older than Calsa, and about to go through his ritual. He strode over, taking a bite from the colorful fruit he had in his hand. "I didn't think it was possible."

"What do you want, Bezin? Let Cal do his chores so that he has a better chance of coming to the lake with us." Jerako stepped in front the larger boy.

"Don't go getting his hopes up, Jerako. You know Alt won't let him go anywhere. He's got Cal so wrapped up, rumors have been goin around."

Calsa turned to look at him as she set the full bucket on the edge of the well. "What rumors?"

"You don't want to know, Cal," Jerako said quietly.

"No, I'm quite sure I do. What rumors, Bezin?" Calsa took a few steps over to the two boys. Bezin was easily a head taller than she. But she didn't fear him. She had faced down far larger balloons of hot air.

Bezin grinned. "With how protective Master Alt is of you, and the fact he has you doing all these chores all the time, it's pretty obvious. He's keeping you as his lover. Kinda sick, if you ask me. But better your ass than mine." Bezin laughed, watching Calsa, expecting her to get mad and try to attack him to defend her pride.

Raising a brow, Calsa looked between the boys with a careless expression. "Is that all?" She shrugged and turned back to her bucket. As she unhooked it, Bezin came closer to her.

"So you don't even deny it? I knew it!"

"And what does it matter? If we were lovers, just means we're gettin some." Calsa lifted the bucket and started to head back to the house.

Bezin growled behind her. "Or maybe the other rumor is true!"

"And that would be?" Calsa didn't bother turning.

"That you're a girl!" Bezin grinned when Calsa stopped.

"If that was so, then I'm sure you'd be pretty ashamed of yourself if you got beaten by a girl."

"Wha... ?" Any words were knocked out of his head as Calsa swung around, smashing the side of Bezin's head with the bucket. Water slashed everywhere as the big, muscled boy was thrown to the ground, his brain swimming in his skull. Jerako cringed and backed away quickly.

"That was a bit much."

"Well, that just put an end to one rumor. He won't say I'm a girl anymore. He wouldn't be able to live down the humilation of being beaten by a girl." Calsa looked at the broken bucket. "But I guess this means I can't go with you guys tonight. I have to go find a new bucket."

"I know where you can get one. C'mon, if we hurry, you may yet get a chance!" Jerako stepped over Bezin with a sneer. "At least he won't be joining us. Should make the night more pleasant."

"You did what?" Alt glared at Calsa. At fully grown, she nearly equalled him in height so he could no longer look down at her, yet he still found a way to make her feel small.

"I made sure he will be a gentleman the rest of his life." Calsa crossed her arms, her chin up.

Alt continued to glare at her. They stood that way for several moments, making Jerako somewhat uncomfortable. Finally, Alt turned away, picking up the bucket of water and heading for the fenced yard out behind the house. "Fine. Go." He shut the door behind him.

Wide eyed, Jerako turned to Calsa. "Wow. I thought he'd be pissed."

Shrugging, Calsa headed out the door. "Naw. He doesn't get mad. He just makes me pay for it later. But that's alright. At least having a little fun will make the hard work later more enjoyable. It'd be nice to have some new good memories, not just the same old ones I keep running through my head."

"And what good memories are those? If I may ask?" Jerako followed Calsa as they headed out to the field where the tabi grazed. Calsa still had to care for Marm, Alt's personal tabis, before she could go anywhere.

"When my parents were alive. When everyone was still alive." She said it so quietly, Jerako almost didn't hear her. But he heard the sadness in her voice. He didn't press the matter any further.

Once Marm had been brushed down and cared for, Calsa followed Jerako out of the town. They laughed as they made their way down a narrow path. The sky was still orange by the time they made it down to the lake. All the other boys were already there. They had brought a ball with which to play their favorite game. Laterns lit the small field near the lake as they kicked the ball around, breaking up into teams without thought.

Calsa kicked the ball over to Jerako, who kicked the ball into a goal. Yelling friendly insults back and forth, they all played for awhile, laughing together, no matter who scored. The warm air, the bright moon, the shimmering lake, all meshed into a gentle euphoria that left everyone feeling blithe. Soon, most of them would become fully fledged Ha'trin, no longer students. Soon, the war outside the calm of their village would become theirs. But right now, they could be young and careless.

Once the game concluded, the score not really mattering, they gathered around the fire, bantering back and forth, telling jokes and stories. A pipe was passed around, everyone taking a few puffs of the flavorful herb blend. It wasn't long before some of boys started passing around a gourd of the sweet Ha'trin wine that the order often traded to help with their expenses.

"And then Cal just turned around and smashed that bucket right across his face! It had to be the most entertaining thing I ever saw!" Jerako told the others, everyone laughing and patting her on the back.

"Naw, I was just making sure he didn't think to spread anymore rumors around. Teach him some manners, you know?" Calsa chuckled at the memory.

"As you did. Because we're a family, and if anyone has a problem with anyone else, it should be handled quickly because soon we'll have to be watching out for each other, and it doesn't matter whether we like the person or not, we're a family, and we watch out for each other at all costs!" Narco raised his cup to make a toast. He was a thin boy, but good at what he was trained to do, striking from the shadows. All the Ha'trin were trained based on what they were best at.

Everyone raised their cups to acknowledge his words. Calsa smiled and raised her cup as well. Enough years had passed since she had lost her last family. And now she had this one.

"You need to learn your limit." Jerako helped Calsa back toward the village.

"Nonesense! I know exactly how much I kin handle." Her words slurred together as she stumbled along beside Jerako, her arm wrapped around his shoulders. "I'm just buzzed!"

Jerako laughed. "I can see that. We're almost there."

"You know, yer an awefully good friend." She giggled, patting him on the chest, nearly causing them both to trip.

"Ok, steady now. You can tell me all about how good a friends we are in the morning when you're sober. Master Alt is probably gonna be pretty upset."

"He- he can go to hell! He thinks I'm so weak. He talks all the time, tellin me about how revenge is bad and-and all that! The Templiks killed my parents and all my friends! Then the Ha'tinre, they go and kill my brother! Dogs, all of them." Calsa tripped, pulling Jerako down with her.

"Alrighty. C'mon, back on your feet. Cal?" Jerako stood, trying to pull Calsa back up with him. He was surprised to see her shoulders tremble. He knelt down to her. "What's the matter?"

"Who is he to tell me I can't avenge my family? I came here thinking I would fight some glorious war to defend my home, and all he does is treat me like some street rat." She grinded her teeth angrily. "They didn't do anything wrong. They were just defending their home. And yet they were slaughtered like animals. Why did the Templiks have to come here? Of all the worlds, why here? Of all the families, why mine?"

She felt Jerako place his hand on her shoulder. "None of us know why they do what they do. They're driven by their false gods, gods that none of us have ever heard or seen. I know what it's like to lose family members. I lost my father. My uncle, my master, convinced my mother it was in my best interest to come and be a Ha'trin. I was filled with rage, just like you. But here, I've learned that revenge just clouds my thoughts. When I finally learned that, I opened my eyes and saw I had a family here. And in a way, what we are doing, driving those Templik dogs off our world, we're avenging those who died, those they killed without provacation. That is what our families would want. That is how you can avenge them. Train hard, become a Ha'trin, and help us push them off this world and keep them away. Make them all regret the day they stepped foot on our soil."

Calsa hung her head. With a shuddering sigh, she nodded. Jerako stood and held out his hand. Pulling Calsa up, he helped her toward the house. They stumbled up the stairs, and Jerako knocked on the door. Alt swung the door open. "What... ?"

"Uh, he drank a little more than he should have. I probably should have watched him a little closer." Jerako hoped to keep Cal from too much trouble.

"I have to leave tomorrow for another assignment and you decide to get drunk? Brilliant. Get in here. And as for you," Alt turned to Jerako as he gave Calsa a shove into the house, "thank you for bringing him home. Have a good evening." He closed the door.

"You know, yer a real ass ... AH!" Calsa was suddenly drenched in freezing water.

"I've been waiting to use that bucket of water. Good, now that you can think a little clearer, you need to sober up and get your stuff packed." Alt past her, heading into the bedroom.

Shivering, looking terribly undignified, Calsa stared at the doorway Alt had vanished into. "Wha?"

"Sanlis thought it would be a good test to take you with me on this little assignment. There's reports that the Torak Lakus Resistance group has landed on the planet. They have been successful at fighting the Reds from within. Their planet was liberated some years ago, and ever since they've been on the move, trying to help other worlds under Red Tide oppression." Alt came back and handed Calsa a towel. "Only problem is, we don't know where they've landed, who they are, or anything solid about them. They are like ghosts, moving like shadows through crowds. Even the Ha'tinre know to fear them and their effecientcy. We have to find them and offer them assistance."

Calsa suddenly stopped rubbing her hair dry and peered at Alt. "Like shadows, you say?"

"Indeed. It's been said even the Crimson Rover dogs can't find them with their minds. Even their Graj pets can't find them, track them, nothing. They strike, and then they're gone."

"Shadowshifter," Calsa breathed. Alt turned to her.

"What was that?"

She looked up at him. "Shadowshifters. I saw one, once. He came to our hide out. He was injured, and Savik brought him into the hideout and we patched him up. I remember, he tried to make a joke about how harsh the penalty was for asking a Templik guard the time. We told him about our stories. He asked a lot about the resistance. He asked if we knew anything about any other types of freedom fighters, and we told him we knew that there were Ha'trin on the world, but none of us knew where they were or how to contact them. There were small pockets of resistance in every town, but nothing organized. I remember he looked at me ... and his eyes..." She paused a moment, a shiver running through her. "They were completely black. Like sockets. They creeped me out. He told us not to worry about it. Soon, all the freedom fighters would be united and the Red Tide would be forced off the world. Then there was a lot of commotion outside, we could hear Banda yelling something about Templiks wanting to starve the orphans. We knew the guards were coming, but when we offered to hide the man, he just smiled and said 'Soon, our shadow will fall on the Tide, and our darkness will sweep them off all the worlds.' Then, he just ... vanished. Melted into the shadows. The guards searched our home but found no trace of him. We never saw him again."

Alt rubbed his chin. "That explains a lot of things, then. But that raises another question even more disturbing. Shadowshifters are completely out of the reach of any group. No empire, no singular force can earn their combined allegience. They can become anything, anyone, and then vanish into shadows like the living darkness they are. They are a neutral force, without any government of their own. So why then would they suddenly, in large numbers, take an interest in the Torak Lakus Resistance group?"

"What makes you think large numbers?" Calsa pulled her wet shirt off. Alt quickly turned away his gaze. Though her breasts were tightly bound, he could see the small bumps of her nipples poking against the bandages. It was difficult enough for him to sleep in the same room with her, listening to her heavy breathing when she thought he was asleep, reminding himself over and over that if he gave into his temptation, they would no longer be student and teacher. Calsa needed guidance. Calsa needed a permenant home. If he gave in and went to her in the night, they could both easily lose sight of the end goal, which was to make her a Ha'trin, the first female Ha'trin in over a thousand years and secure her place here in the village. Then ... maybe then...

"I really wish you'd quit doing that," he growled, almost regretting he'd said anything. She was still drunk enough to not be thinking all that clearly, and he'd just proven a weakness to her.

"Oh? But, we're all guys here, right?" She grinned at him, heading into the room to change shirts.

Shifting uncomfortable, Alt glared after her. "To answer your earlier question, we figure it's more than just a few because they are showing up on worlds all throughout Red Space. Seems your experience with one was their scout, checking out the world to make sure we were worth liberating. Not all worlds under the Reds want to be freed." Alt turned away, tossing the towel onto the ground and using his foot to push it around, getting up the water that had dripped on the wooden planks.

"I can't imagine anyone who didn't want to be free." Her voice sounded hushed.

"Not everyone can think for them ... selves..." Alt turned, his eyes narrowing. Calsa stood at the door, a loose tunic just barely long enough to reach midthigh. She was leaning with her elbow against the doorframe, her head resting against her hand. Those pale orbs of hers reflected the candle light. She could see his eyes slowly follow her long, shapely legs. "Cal..." Alt rumbled deep in his chest. "Don't play around."

Smiling, Calsa started toward him slowly. "Does it look like I'm playing?" She watched Alt's throat move as he gulped drily, trying desperately to keep control of himself.

"Cal, you're still rather intoxicated..." Alt's voice was deeper than usual, low and rumbling. He took a step back as Calsa slipped her arms around his neck, pressing those very mature breasts against his chest.

"Or do you mean 'intoxicating?'" Her eyes flicked up to his yellow ones. He clenched his jaw as he peered into their sensual depths.

"Cal, this is not a good idea." He grabbed a hold of her arms with every intention of pushing her away from him. He had every intention of reprimanding her for this, reminding her it had been her idea to come here and become a Ha'trin. But he couldn't tear his eyes away. Her skin was so soft, her body so warm and yielding. She was pressing her hip against his, grinding against his aching bulge that begged to be set free from the tight leggings.

"I think you've forgotten my real name," she whispered, her lips hovering so close to his.

"Calsa..." It came out of him in a lustful breath. And then he felt her soft lips against his. For a moment, he lost all control. Any thought of chiding her was gone from his mind. He kissed her back with passionate intensity, holding her tightly against his hard body. He could taste the sweet wine in her mouth as their tongues met.

Then suddenly Alt grabbed Calsa's arms, wrenching her away from him and stepping back. "Not a good idea."

Before she could say anything, he turned and slipped out the door, heading out into the dark. Calsa peeked around the heavy curtain, watching him vanish into the night. She sighed. It had been so long. She wanted to know if her memory, a memory she had held close through all these years, was as right as she thought. She could just barely remember how full she had felt with him inside her tight, young hole, how dominating and rough he had been, and yet so exquesite.

With another deep breath, she sat down on the couch. Fine, she would wait til he got back. He couldn't resist her a second time. She leaned back against the sofa, determined to get what she needed.

Alt slowly opened the door. He came in, still contemplating the awkward conversation they would have. As he entered, he saw Calsa's lithe form tightly curled on the couch. He closed the door quietly behind him. Standing over her, he couldn't help but take the blanket draped over the back of the couch and cover her in it. He knelt down, running his hand over her hair. He had been so hard on her for the past 3 years, all because he believed she could be tough enough to pass the final ritual. But he had failed to see that she had grown up. She had learned so much, had become so much calmer, more open to the things he taught her. Yet he still thought of her as that angry, scared little girl he had first brought here. He had forced himself to not see that she had grown up into a beautiful young woman.

He sighed. It probably had not been the smartest thing to resist her but it had been the best thing. He ruffled her hair as he stood, heading into the bedroom. He stopped when he heard her whimper.

"I dun wanna wake up," she whined.

He smiled. "Then go back to sleep. It's not morning yet."

"Ok." Covering her head with the blanket, he didn't even have the time to turn around again before he heard her breathing change to that of slumber. Pulling his shirt and leggings off, he climbed into his own bed, facing the wall. Maybe one day he wouldn't resist.

The morning dawned foggy and gloomy. Calsa woke to the strong smell of tarndold tea and sizzling lukirik strips. She sat up groggily. For a moment she wondered how she had ended up on the couch before her muddled mind recalled the previous night. She felt a little ashamed of herself. She tried to stand to go into the room to get some clothes on but her head pounded, making her give out a small groan as she eased back down to let the pounding pass.

Alt glanced out of the kitchen at her. "Well, you're finally awake. Not feeling too good, eh? That should teach you not to go getting drunk again." He strode over, setting down a steaming cup of the tarndold tea on the smal table in front of the couch. Calsa peeked up at him before forcing herself to sit up and taking the cup to sip on it.

"Among other things," she mumbled into her mug. Alt just shook his head and headed back into the kitchen.

"I packed your things for you. We'll need to go see Sanlis for our destination as soon as we've eaten, then we'll be on our way."

"Are you sure I should come? I've never gone on any of your missions before." She was having second thoughts.

"I'm quite certain you should come. It will be a good experience for you. You'll be further ahead than the rest of the boys. Even after they graduate the ritual, they'll still be students for a little longer, learning who our allies are and how to talk to people out in the world. This way, you'll know all that already." Alt brought a plate of the thin strip of lukirik. The small creature's flesh was high in energy and was often turned into jerky and eaten in the mornings to get started.

"I guess." She took the toast with jam lavishly smeared on it and nibbled on that. The tea was quickly clearing her mind.

After they had finished breakfast, Calsa went into the bedroom and got dressed. She started wrapping her breasts flat, wincing as the bandage pinched her skin. She could hardly wait to pass her ritual and not be made to wear this. She pulled a shirt over her head and tucked it into her pants. As she pulled on her boots, she watched Alt through the corner of her eye as he went through their things one last time. They would travel light, with only a single change of clothes, several weapons, and food.

Standing, Calsa followed Alt to the longhouse. It was the place they came for meetings. The office she had first came into 3 years ago was on the side of the building. Once inside, Sanlis greeted Alt warmly. He nodded to Calsa. "You're a lucky boy. It's not often trainees are allowed into the field before they have been relieved of any inherient magic. Sleep with one eye open."

Then he turned to a map on the table. "The reports we've recieved say that the Torak Lakus struck in Rudex City. 20 Templik guards were slaughtered, and all they found was a blue Lakus Rose, the calling card of the Resistance. I want you both to go there. Obviously, they must have landed near there and have their operations somewhere near that city."

"Not neccessarily."

Sanlis turned and glared at Calsa. "What was that, son?" he asked in some irritation.

Calsa looked up and glanced between the two. "Uh, I mean ... from what I know of the Shadowshifters ... I mean, from what I've heard- which, granted, is bits and pieces- they are desert dwellers. I mean, I always thought that was strange. Living darkness perferring to live in bright, bone dry deserts. But they seem to be where others find it difficult to survive." Calsa reached forward and pointed to a tiny outpost along the border of the Eastern desert plains. "That's the hottest, driest place on our world. The Templiks don't go there, except as punishment."

"That's 58 kilometers from Rudex City. Do you think they would strike that far from their main post?" Sanlis was obviously annoyed by Calsa.

"Well ... it makes sense to me, sir. Strike far from home, and throw the enemy off your trail. Especially if you're just getting here. You don't want the Templiks getting suspicious of a tiny little outpost, so you make a huge deal in a big city far from homebase. Then, while the Templiks look elsewhere, you're digging in further, pulling together supplies, contacting smaller resistance groups, and organizing counterstrikes. All the while, striking the Templiks little blows here and there, keeping them running around like ants when they feel vibrations."

Sanlis glanced at Alt in some surprise. Alt could only shrug. "Might as well give it a shot. Seems as good a place as any. And if they aren't there, the town is only a day's ride."

Finally, Sanlis nodded. "Very well. Start at Tol Outpost. Don't linger long. And stay low. The Templiks are unnerved and on high alert. Might want to leave heavy weapons here. However, do take these pistols." Sanlis handed them both a long barreled pistol.

"Ah, been awhile since I've used one of these beauties." Alt ran his fingers along the long barrel. "They are completely silent, firing a metal pellet out by way of eletromagnetism. I think you'll like this, Cal." Alt wrapped the shoulder holster around his chest, which would hold it snuggly against his side, still allowing for smooth movements. He pulled a thin, long sleeved shirt over his tunic to hide it. After helping Calsa put her's on, they both saluted Sanlis.

"If you do find the Torak Lakus Resistance group, offer them whatever assistance we can spare. We need these Reds off our world. Good luck to you both."

After Calsa helped saddle Marm, Alt swung up into place, helping her up behind him. He set Marm on a steady trot out of the village. As they left, she heard her name being called and looked back. Jerkao was waving goodbye to her. Smiling, she waved back to him as they moved into the trees.

They traveled in silence most of the day. They avoided any major roads or cities. The nearest town to the Ha'trin was full of spies. Only by a massive cloaking device that the Ha'trin had recieved from the Ryo, a species that was part of the Alliance, could their village stay undetected. The Templiks knew they were near, but could never track them directly. So they gave the town a wide berth and continued on.

As the sun began setting, Alt turned Marm off the small trail they were following and headed into the trees. Once they had found a spot he liked, Alt stopped the tabis and they set up camp. Sitting around the small fire, Calsa looked up to the clear sky. "Do you think we'll manage to get the Templiks off our world? For real?"

Alt raised a brow. "Alone, no. Our clan is too small. Sanlis' predisessor brought the clan to this world 100 years before the Templiks showed up. We are a break off of the Clan of Blades. We attracted some from the Shadow Clan. The name of our clan describes our start."

Calsa nodded, understanding now. "Clan of Shadow Blades. Do you think the Torak Lakus can do it?"

Alt peered at her. "Maybe, with their help. The Reds are dug into this world like an gorging tick. It will be a long, bloody war. But every ally makes it easier. Every world liberated is one more resource the Red Tide loses. Slowly, the Reds will be driven back to where they came from. With the Alliance pressing in from the Norse Quadrant, the Torak Lakus destroying it from the inside, and the Ssalian Empire pushing from Mesodus Quadrant, I can't see how the Red Tide can hold onto their claims for much longer. They are starting to be stretched thin. At this point, only if they can conquer the Trade Federation, can they keep their heads above water."

"Hmmm. I will be glad when they are gone." Calsa looked up to the sky again.

"So will I. I will be happier when the Ha'tinre are gone. We never had a problem with them until several clans allowed the Red Tide to buy their loyalty. There was a small, fresh clan of Ha'tinre on this world just before the Templiks came. From what I was told, we lived peacefully with them. They left us alone, and we left them alone. Then the Ha'tinre clan Blade Dancers came, claiming to be inleague with the Templiks. They told Clan of the Plains that if they did not also pledge loyalty, they would be destroyed. The small clan did refuse, saying they had no intentions of helping the Red Tide. And so they were wiped out."

"The Ha'tinre kill their own?" Calsa was appauled, but not that surprised.

"Their loyalty to their own clans. The Ha'tinre clans feud constantly. Smaller clans are often forced to go into hiding to build their forces or ally with larger clans for protection. The largest of the Ha'tinre clans, Clan Stalker, holds the power to wipe any clan from existance, or to absorb them. Their world is much different from ours. A pupil becomes a fully fledged Ha'tinre only when he has killed a Ha'tinre graduate, or his or her own teacher. Theirs is a life of treachery, betrayal and a constant struggle to stay on top and alive." Alt let out a long sigh. "That is why we give up our inherient magic. Otherwise, our battles would be far more brutal than they already are." He laid down on his side, cushioning his head with his pouches. "Now go to sleep. We still have several more days to ride to get to Tol Outpost."

Laying down, Calsa rolled to her back, putting a hand under her head, staring up at the stars. She thought back to the day she had met Alt. She should have known from the start he was not Ha'tinre. A true Ha'tinre would have killed her where she stood and taken all the money, not just the coins that had been his own. But on the off chance he had been a Ha'tinre who had seen a potential apprentice, her life would be so much different. All the anger she had carried in her in youth. As Alt had said when he had first brought her to the Ha'trin village, the Ha'tinre would have loved it, would have made her use it to do terrible things to other people, her own people. She turned her head, looking to Alt's calm face just past the flickering flames. If only Savik could see her now. She had to smile at the thought.