A Short Story Introducing The Star Stone Chronicles
By Lanne Deganha
“Your tomorrows rise as the stars guide your path.”
If she hadn’t been searching for a perfectly round black stone to use in her upcoming path-choice ceremony, Kair’k Nina might have missed the message. It sat in plain sight, yet nearly invisible, faint scratches on a scrap of material poking out from a crevice in the jagged rocks.
Kair’k scanned the steep path leading back up the hill to the city gates, expecting to see someone waving her away from the message, or at least gazing her direction. But the path was undisturbed since she had inched her way down at premorn, chasing the best light for discerning colors and patterns in the rocks. One sun reflected wanly on the calm sea. Silence enveloped the deserted, rocky shoreline. She was alone.
Kair’k took a tentative step forward, and let her fingertips graze the message. The action felt strangely intimate, like touching a secret. Don’t be fanciful, she told herself with a shake. You can’t touch a secret.
She dropped her arm to her side. The message belonged to someone who knew why the strange words were hidden outside the safety of the city walls. Someone who knew what the message meant.
The light bouncing on the sea grew brighter. With a start, Kair’k realized that she had stood staring at the message far longer than she had intended. She needed to hurry back up the hill or she would be late for her morning lessons. She turned back to the steep path, carrying her black stone in her hand and the secret of the message in her heart.
2
Grandmother raised a hand in silent warning as Kair’k entered their apartment that eventide. Jewelled circlets sparkled on Grandmother’s bony fingers, and her long garnet robe pooled in graceful folds at her forearm. She sat in her high-backed carved chair near the fire, surrounded by a semicircle of townspeople.
“Professor Glais, you’ve got to do something about the the shipbuilders.” A bald-headed man lashed out with sharp, staccato words. Kair’k recognized him as the uncle of one of her academy classmates.
A woman with blue skin nearly jumped out of her chair on the other side of the circle. “Shipbuilders? Do you mean the dedicated workers spending their hard-earned wages and raising their younglings within your city gates?”
“What I mean,” the man cast a meaningful glance at Kair’k, still standing in the entryway, “is that something is wrong when the oldest families can’t reserve a table at the annual heritage gala.”
Kair’k released the breath she didn’t know she had been holding. “Goodwill unto all gathered here, Honored Grandmother.” She approached her grandmother at the head of the semicircle and kissed her on both cheeks. Then she dipped her head in greeting to the blue-skinned lady, nodded briefly at the others, and fled to her own chamber. If anyone could soothe the townspeople’s complaints, Grandmother could. Officially, Glais Nina was a respected professor of history at the preparatory academy where Kair’k studied, but Grandmother had been a politician in the capital city once, before Kair’k was born. A very skillful politician.
3
“They’re all gone now.” Grandmother walked swiftly into the anteroom where Kair’k sat polishing her black stone. If Kair’k were surprised to have her grandmother address her in a little-used dialect native to this quadrant, instead of standard language, she didn’t show it. “The angry man is a banker. The shipbuilders worry him.” The twilight cast a faint green hue across Grandmother’s brown skin.
“You speak kindly, Kunniati.” Kair’k answered in the same local language, adopting the native term for her grandmother. “The man is a money lender. He demands favors in return for credits. The shipbuilding syndicate has its own funds and makes decisions in which he has no voice.”
“Such as awarding you the appointment to the advanced academy in the capital city that he coveted for his nephew.”
There it was. The shipbuilders’ offer. Their bid for Kair’k to leave behind the safety and comfort of her life within the city gates and study at the prestigious academy in the capital. Grandmother’s expectation that Kair’k would accept the shipbuilders’ invitation without a second thought. Her upcoming path-choice ceremony. The black stone gleaming in her lap. “I’m not ready to leave,” Kair’k whispered and shook her head. “My path remains with you.”
Grandmother went on as if she hadn’t heard. “I arranged for the banker to be seated at a head table at the gala, alongside a high-ranking syndicate member whispered to be having financial problems.”
“He can seek to forge a new connection on his own,” Kair’k concluded. “It will not even occur to him that you planned it. And the shipbuilding woman?”
“What would you propose?” Grandmother gave Kair’k the same look she might pass to her academy students during oral exams.
Kair’k thought for a moment. “She wants to feel like a member of the community, instead of an outsider. Invite her to bring her younglings for afternoon refreshments with a selection of merchants who tuck away their best items for the old families. Make it a special occasion, with games and treats for the little ones. Mothers will always find common ground to talk about.”
Grandmother nodded her agreement. “I see that you went down to the water this morning.” She pointed to the black stone in Kair’k’s lap and switched to speaking in an even older native language, one that was on the verge of disappearing.
“I hope I did not wake you, Honorable Grandmother.” Kair’k spoke in the same obscure dialect. “I . . . I don’t need a ceremonial stone to deliver the news that I’m staying here with you, but . . .” her voice trailed off, “the sea called to me.”
“Honored,” corrected Grandmother gently, “not Honorable. Harder sound at the end. Native speakers would notice the mistake. You may yet change your mind.”
“Honored Grandmother,” Kair’k repeated the phrase and hesitated, waiting for a nod of approval at her revised pronunciation. “Did you teach my father the old languages, too? Before he chose his path?”
Grandmother’s face tightened at the mention of her long-absent son. “Language skills have served your father well as an explorer across many worlds. They will also serve you well in the capital.”
“I wouldn’t be studying languages at the academy, Honored Grandmother.” Kair’k got the ending right this time. “They want me to become one of them.”
“Them? So now you are like the merchants holding back the best goods? Calling the shipbuilders ‘them’ creates a wall out of air.” Grandmother’s voice rang with a note of finality.
“I do not know their ways. I don’t understand their industry.” Kair’k’s voice cracked. “I have nothing to offer.”
“Empty excuses.” Grandmother dismissed Kair’k’s concerns with a wave of her hand. “Shipbuilders are people, too, with the same ways as everyone else. You will learn about their industry at the academy. You offer them your problem-solving skills. That is why they chose you.”
“The shipbuilders chose me out of respect for you, Honored Grandmother.” Kair’k shook her head stubbornly. “You share your wise counsel with all who seek it, whatever their background. You hear the stories, keep the secrets, and show the path forward.”
“Whether you choose to remain here, or venture elsewhere,” Grandmother looked at the black stone in front of Kair’k, “you will do the same. It is your legacy.”
4
“I found something else down by the water, Honored Grandmother. A message hidden in the rocks.”
Surprise flashed across Grandmother’s face, followed by urgency. “Show me.” She forgot to speak in a foreign language.
“The message wasn’t mine to take.” Long brown hair swirled as Kair’k shook her head. “I left it for the right finder.”
“Whom might the right finder be?”
Kair’k collected her thoughts. “The one who can best understand what the message means.”
Grandmother pressed on. “What language was the message?”
Kair’k hadn’t paid as much attention to the language as to the message itself. “The old language,” she finally whispered.
“How many in this town could read that forgotten tongue—“
“Two . . and we are both in this chamber.” Kair’k finished for her Grandmother. “We are the ones who can understand the meaning. The message was left for us.”
“You are the one with an upcoming path-choice.” Grandmother pointed at the black stone still in Kair’k’s hands. “The message was meant for you.”
5
The message was meant for me.
Kair’k bounded out of bed at premorn and made her way carefully down the steep path to the water. She had wanted to race down in the darkness the night before, but the steep path was treacherous, and the message too well-hidden.
Kair’k retraced her steps carefully among the rocks when she finally reached the shore, searching one crevice after another until— There!
The message offered unexpected resistance when Kair’k gave it a tug. A thin cord attached the message to something wedged within the rock crevice. How had Kair’k not noticed that the day before?
She drew a small blade from the pouch at her waist and carefully pried the rock crevice open wider, keeping a wary eye for any creatures that might emerge. Finally, the hole was large enough for Kair’k to wiggle out a small brown pouch knotted with a string.
Curiosity trumped potential danger as Kair’k dug two fingers into the bag to loosen the tie. Inside, she found a smooth blue crystalline shard. It was a flat, imperfect oval, small enough to fit into the palm of her hand and smooth to the touch, marked with undulating shades of blue radiating outward from the center like the rings on a tall tree. She ran her thumb across the surface. It was warm, as if it had been baking in the sun all day.
The rock was an asthone, an ancient star stone. Grandmother kept a similar stone among her treasured gems as a memento of her days as a politician in the capital city. As a youngling, Kair’k had loved to rub its smooth surface on her cheek, and to marvel at the colors dancing across its face.
With the star stone firmly in her grasp, Kair’k turned her gaze back to the message. The side that had faced away from her the day before held markings, too. This was not a language, but symbols, and she gave a laugh of joy at the familiar art and the meaning hidden within: one sun, the path leading up the hill from the sea, and Grandmother’s high-backed chair.
Kair’k raced back up the path, threw open the chamber door, and breathlessly fell into the open arms of a man she had not seen in a very long time. “Father!”
6
“What are you doing here?” Kair’k asked when she finally separated from her father’s embrace. “Why did you hide the asthone? What if someone else had found it before I did?”
Kair’k’s father smiled at her exuberance. “The star stone and I have come for your path-choice ceremony, of course.” Padrain Nina was a tall man with short-cropped brown hair and smile lines around his eyes. He wore the simple pants and vest favored by travelers, and carried a small communications unit at his waist. “It is not every day that a beloved daughter gets appointed to study in the capital city.”
“I cannot go, Father. I am not ready.”
“You will never be ready until you take the first step on your journey.”
Kair’k nodded as if to say she remembered the ancient wisdom. But her mind was made up about staying home. “The star stone?” she asked again, to change the subject.
“Asthones have the power to guide wise path-choices. I left yours in a place where only you would find it, with a note that only you could read, because you are facing an important decision.”
“Grandmother used to tell me bedtime stories about asthones providing directions to lost travelers.” Kair’k sounded skeptical. “But those are just stories made up for younglings.”
“Asthones are very real.” Father pulled on a cord strung around his neck until an attached star stone emerged from under his tunic. Its blue tones were darker, more muted than Kair’k’s stone, and its rings less defined. “The name Asthone not only refers to the star stones, but also to the people who wield their power.” He smiled gently. “I am an Asthone, your Grandmother is one, and so was your mother.”
As if on cue, Grandmother entered the main chamber and took her place on her high-backed chair. Her hands cradled the vibrant blue star stone rimmed with gold that Kair’k had played with so many times as a child. Kair’k had never guessed the stone was anything other than a pretty bauble left over from Grandmother’s days in the capital city.
Her father continued speaking. “Now that you have reached the age for your path-choice, you are an Asthone, too. It is your birthright, and I have formally presented you with a star stone as your proof.”
7
“Why do you say that you formally presented me with a star stone, Father?” Kair’k asked. “It was a gift in honor of my path-choice.”
“I am an Asthone Gallant, Kair’k.” Her father’s voice was quiet. “I explore worlds near and far searching for Asthones. That is my path-choice, and it was your mother’s too, before she died.”
“You mine star stones?” Kair’k’s eyes widened.
He laughed softly. “I find the people who are Asthones. Not the stones themselves.”
“How?”
“I chase conflicts across the galaxy. With anger and fear, passions rise and wise path-choices fall. I listen for the voices of reason to emerge among the chaos and recruit the best.” He smiled broadly. “Politicians, city leaders, shopkeepers, and shipbuilders. Jogan fruit farmers. Apprentices in training. Generals, pilots, and mechanics. Professors,” he nodded at Grandmother, “and students, like you. Some are affiliated with one side of a conflict, some with the other.”
“Then what?”
“Star stones and encouraging messages.” Something in her father’s tone made clear that his explanation had come to an end.
“What do you expect me to do? As an Asthone, I mean.”
“Offer your help to those struggling to see the best path forward. That is your talent, and your star stone will only magnify it.”
Kair’k opened her mouth to resist, but Grandmother cut her off.
“You have a knack for finding the way for both sides to succeed in a dispute, Kair’k, even when those around you argue that one side should win and the other should lose.” Grandmother gave a rueful smile. “In another age, you would have followed in my footsteps as a politician in the capital city. Now your path-choice will lead you elsewhere.”
“You mean to the academy?” Kair’k looked from Grandmother to her father for confirmation.
“Staying here or not is the first path-choice ahead of you,” her father agreed. “But no matter what, your destiny — your tomorrows, as the the message put it, because the old language does not have the exact word for destiny — is as an Asthone.”
“So how does this star stone work?” Kairk held hers up to the light and examined it closely, as if looking for another secret message. “Just in case I ever want to give it a try. Do I spin it, or dunk it in the sea?”
Father’s cheeks dimpled with another broad smile. “The asthone’s power lies in you, Kair’k. Thus, the stone will reveal its secrets when you need it most.” He dropped his voice conspiratorially. “But I find that rubbing it sometimes helps me to think.”
8
Dim light cast a soft glow around the large meeting center. Dusk had fallen across the city. Kair’k stood with her academy classmates, each one holding a single black stone in their hands. They exchanged tight smiles and wished each other goodwill for the day. But mostly they were quiet with their own thoughts. Their path-choices loomed.
One by one, Kair’k’s classmates approached the front of the crowded chamber and made their path-choices known. They passed off their black stones as required to select among dueling path-choices. Most of Kair’k’s classmates committed to joining family enterprises as farmers, merchants, or community leaders. A couple remained at the academy as teaching assistants. Two became city guardians. A handful pledged allegiance to causes beyond the city gates. One woman with a beautiful singing voice accepted a position with a traveling troupe of entertainers. Two young men received commissions to an off-world military academy. Finally, it was Kair’k’s turn.
Kairk looked straight ahead as she walked down the aisle set aside for that purpose. Ahead of her, Grandmother stood on one side of the dais, representing the option for Kair’k to remain in the city and assist her in solving problems for the townspeople. Proper training for any young Asthone. The blue-skinned woman stood on the other side. She represented the shipbuilders and their offer of further studies at the advanced academy in the capital city. Both women held one hand open with the palm facing up.
Kair’k gripped her black stone tightly in one hand. Her other hand held her star stone, and her thumb slowly rubbed a small circle across its smooth surface. She reached the front of the crowded room, aware of the many eyes watching her, waiting for her path-choice. She thought of her father, the Asthone Gallant, somewhere in the crowd.
“Goodwill unto all gathered here.” Kair’k spoke the traditional greeting, took a deep breath, and placed the perfectly round black stone into her Grandmother’s outstretched waiting hand. “I am sorry, Honored Grandmother.”
“Your tomorrows rise as the stars guide your path.” Grandmother nodded her head at Kair’k, and she closed her fingers around the black stone. Kair’k’s path-choice was set.
Tradition demanded giving a polished black stone as a token of regret when declining an available path-choice, to ensure that the offerer was not left empty-handed. By giving Grandmother her black stone, Kair’k had declined to remain within the city walls. She would study at the academy in the capital city under the auspices of the shipbuilders.
“I am an Asthone, and my destiny awaits.”
The Star Stone Chronicles: Kairk by Lanne Deganha. April 2023. All rights reserved.