Luna stacked the last crate of lavender on the top shelf, sneezing as the pollen dispersed into the air.
"Spirits bless you" her Uncle Martin said tinkering with one of the frost emitters.
Luna plopped down beside him and pulled out the quill Dimitri had given her during their too-short friendship. She ran her thumb along its intricate spiraling runes, the weight of the gold handle somehow heavier today. Her chest tightened. She missed them. All of them.
She let out a long, dramatic sigh.
Martin paused but didn't turn. He adjusted a pipe, fiddled with a valve, anything to pretend he hadn't heard her.
Luna groaned this time, making sure he heard.
He exhaled sharply, set down his makeshift soldering wand, and pulled off his goggles. Turning toward her, he stayed seated cross-legged like he always did.
"Something on your mind Luna?" He said begrudgingly.
"No." She said instantly.
He stared at her for a moment, hiding a slight annoyance. He begun to turn back to his project.
"I just feel so lonely here." She blurted.
That froze him mid-turn. He let out another sigh and faced her fully.
"So this is about your moonie friends, huh" he said.
Luna nodded hesitantly. I hate talking about my feelings. No one in this tribe ever understands. Uncle Martin's the closest I'll get to an unjudgmental ear — but only because he doesn't care enough to judge me. He just… lets me talk.
Or ignores me. Which is basically the same thing. She thought.
"There's no one here my age" she mumbled, "everyone's either old or babies, and you, you're always fixing something or sorting something."
Martin didn't exactly fit either group. He wasn't old, not really. Only twenty. Her dad's younger brother from a different mother.
"I'm sorry Luna." He said sincerely. "I have been busy lately, we've been moving a lot and I have to make sure my tent is ready for the road or else–"
She cut him off. "Things will be like…back east" They both went silent, a sadness filled the room.
"I can't have that happen again, so…I have to make sure the alchemy, slash ration tent is always stacked and preserved correctly. But maybe when we find a place to settle for the winter we can hang out some more?" he said, trying to cheer her up.
She gave a reluctant smile. "Yeah, ok." before looking back at her quill.
Martin noticed her staring at it a little too long. "So… what about that moonie boy?" he asked, trying (badly) to connect with his niece.
Luna froze. "What about him?" she said, trying—and failing—not to sound defensive.
"He's cute, isn't he?" he said, poking fun at her.
Out of all the times to suddenly pay attention to my life… of course THIS is the time he picks.Not when I'm sad. Not when I'm lonely. But the second a boy is involved—boom, Uncle of the Year.
"Yeah, I guess," she muttered.
"Yeah I guess,'" he mimicked, raising his voice an octave. "Didn't expect you to have an eye for someone who isn't walking on all fours and covered in fur. Color me intrigued."
Her face heated. "Ugh, you're supposed to be listening, NOT talking."
He threw his hands up and turned back to his project, though Luna could tell he was still listening.
"I just feel… trapped here," she whispered, brushing her finger over the quill's runes. "Trapped in the Oldlands. On Earth."
She looked up through the hole in the tipi ceiling, where Akrinn's light glistened against the night sky.
"They made me feel… I don't know. Anything. Something other than dullness for the first time since… Callisto."
A familiar ache rose in her throat at her brother's name. Wyoming. The drought. The war. No matter how she tried to bury it, the memories lingered like shadows.
"Now all we do is run from place to place, with no real home."
Martin paused his work again, fully turning toward her. The joking tone vanished.
"Luna… I know things have been difficult these last couple years," he said, placing a gentle hand on her cheek. "But you're a strong girl. Like your father. Like your mother. I see that strength—even if they don't always."
He looked up at Akrinn's glow.
"And if you do want to leave one day… to see what it's like among the stars… just know I'll support you. Every step of the way."
Luna smiled at the rare sincerity in his voice.
"As long as you sell as many of my potions up there as you can," he added, smirking. "My support isn't free, you know."
There was the usual Martin. They both chuckled, the dark mood lifting.
"Thank you, Uncle," Luna said, wiping her eyes and shoving the quill back into her cloak. She stood, waved goodbye, and headed out as Martin resumed his work.
Outside, the Oldlands was somehow colder than the refrigerated tent. Chills went down her neck instantly.
"I hate this place," she muttered, walking along the dirt path toward her family tipi. The camp was dark, lit only by thin glimmers leaking through tent walls.
At the entrance of her home, she paused and took a deep breath.
Now it's time… for my full scolding.
She lifted the flap.
Her mother sat in the center of the tipi, head bowed before a carved statue—a man's body with the head of an octopus.
"I pray to the Kor for perseverance," Pat'ul whispered. "I pray to Amun for transformation, and to Moedunn for balance… for peace… for protection."
Luna froze mid-step.
She tried to sneak toward her cot, but—
"Luna?"
Pat'ul lifted her head. Her eyes were still wet from prayer. "Come sit," she said softly, wiping her cheeks and patting the ground beside her.
Luna sat, glancing around. "Where is Dad? Shouldn't he be home by now?"
Pat'ul shrugged, picking up Moedunn's shrine. "Your father left for a hunt around the same time you went missing."
Luna lowered her head, expecting the scolding.
Instead, Pat'ul said quietly, "Luna… I'm sorry."
Luna blinked. She must've misheard.
"I keep things from you," Pat'ul continued. "Too many things. I say it's to protect you… but then I almost lose you, and you go running off with those—"
She spat the word like venom. "—Pechon."
"You know nothing of my origin… or my family," she whispered. "Or my Akiri."
Pat'ul held the shrine tighter.
"I was not born on this planet, Luna."
Luna resisted the urge to comment.
"I was born in Akrinn," Pat'ul continued. "In New Gaea, in the hold of Hassengaar. Your grandfather was an Endowed guard. Your grandmother was a slave. We worked the Korral mines together."
Her voice softened.
"My father guarded the tunnels we dug in. He'd sneak us Scrolls, whisper stories during sleep breaks. Promised he'd buy our freedom someday and show us Akrinn's beauty instead of its darkness."
Pat'ul swallowed hard. "But when he was enlisted to fight in the Crusades, everything changed. With him gone, my mother and I had less and less to eat. One day I was caught stealing bread."
Her voice cracked. "The warden caught me. No warning—just… fire."
She touched the pale burn scars down her side.
"He left me with this. I still feel the heat from his hands."
Before Luna could speak, the tipi flap opened. They both turned—expecting Joseph. Instead, the Elder entered. Pat'ul and Luna straightened immediately.
"Pat'ul, I'm glad to see Luna returned safely," the Elder said, leaning on her stick. "But I'm afraid I have some bad news."
Mother and daughter stiffened.
"What happened?! Is it Father?" Luna blurted.
Pat'ul hushed her. "Apologies, Elder. She's worried. Joseph hasn't returned."
"It's fine," the Elder said with a smile. "She's young. Still learning respect."
Luna swallowed her eye-roll. The Elder loved reminding children of their place.
"It's nothing too serious," the Elder continued. "The hunters are simply taking longer than expected. We sent most of our trackers and—"
"I can prepare to search for them," Pat'ul cut in. "If Joseph and the others—"
"Can I come too?" Luna asked.
"No," Pat'ul said sharply, packing a satchel and her shrine.
"But Mom—"
"Your mother has spoken, girl," the Elder said. "Silence yourself."
Pat'ul shot the Elder a glare. "She is just asking a question. I heard your message. I'm leaving now."
The Elder ignored the tone. "I will stay a bit longer to check on your daughter and thank her for finding our expensive bull."
"That won't be nece—"
"I won't be long," the Elder insisted.
Pat'ul looked to Luna. Luna nodded, knowing this was her chance to warn someone.
Pat'ul reluctantly left.
The Elder reached into her robe and pulled out a small green pastry, foamy in texture and dusted with purple sugar.
That smells amazing, Luna thought, halfway hoping for an offer.
"A merchant in Astoria sold this to me," the Elder said proudly. "Baked by Akrinn's finest, apparently. Take it as gratitude for finding the bull."
Luna took the cake, nearly devouring it—until she remembered Tara's warning.
Move this camp before midday.
Luna tucked the pastry away and raised her hand.
"Yes, Luna?"
"Thank you… but I have something to tell you." She inhaled deeply.
"I think we should move camp—before tomorrow."
The Elder's brow furrowed. "Why? Do you know something?"
"One of the moonies said this place would be dangerous tomorrow and—"
"Did you tell your mother?" the Elder interrupted.
Luna shook her head.
The Elder was visibly relaxed. "I'll speak with her and the Shaman in the morning. We'll investigate. But we can't move until the hunters are back."
Luna nodded. It was more than she expected.
After the Elder left, Luna lay on the ground, bored and alone like always when her parents worked late.
She remembered the green cake and pulled it out.
A little sweetness couldn't hurt. She took a bite.
Sweet. Then… bitter.
The tent dimmed. Swirled. Her eyelids grew impossibly heavy.
She tried to stand then she collapsed and everything went black.
She woke to a cold feeling on her back, the ground icy beneath her.
"Is it snowfall already?" she muttered, reaching blindly for her blanket. After a minute of fumbling, she opened her eyes.
She gasped.
She wasn't in her tipi.
Polished wood. Metallic floor. A glowing ceiling.
Where in the spirits am I?!
A voice boomed from above—loud yet strangely even.
"Hello, Subject Eighty-One. What is your name?"
Luna jumped, realizing her clothes had changed—soft, loose robes, oddly revealing unless she stood.
"Can you speak?" the voice asked. "Given your reaction to the intercom, I assume you are not deaf."
Her pulse spiked.
"You are no longer on the Old Planet," the voice continued. "Congratulations. Many of your kind dream of setting foot on our moon. You received a free ticket. You will be briefed shortly. Please wait for further instruction."
Luna froze.
Had she really been taken to Akrinn? While she slept?
She felt a sting on her wrist and looked down.
Another tattoo.
Dark.
Fresh.
Swollen.
"Subject 81" It said it was still swollen and sensitive. Flakes fell off as she picked at it incessantly. Panic in her breathing.
One of the walls hissed open. Luna summoned the tanto instantly, hiding it behind her back just like Dimitri taught her. Two men stepped inside—dressed like the moonies she had met, but softer, cleaner, meant for indoors. They stopped and gestured for her to follow.
The one on the left had kind eyes. Too kind.
"Hello, Earthborn," he said warmly. "I am Jorrsh. Your personal sponsor in this facility."
Luna's grip loosened. She let the blade vanish. It wouldn't help here.
If they try something… I'll kill them, she lied to herself.
Jorrsh seemed to sense the fear in her and softened his voice.
"You'll be safe here," he said. "I'll make sure of it."
Luna stepped forward—and nearly floated. She stumbled, falling in slow motion.
Jorrsh chuckled gently.
"The gravity is lower here," he said. "You'll adjust."
He smiled at her.
"Welcome to Akrinn."