Prologue: From Darkness to Light

"It's a simple question, even a child can answer!" The loud man's voice makes me want to cover my ears. He's big, with clothes that look like stiff boards with shiny pieces of metal on them and lots of words, nothing like Mama wears. His face is hard, like the walls of our home, and his voice is scarier than the noises at night.

He is a man. Mama says I'm supposed to hide from men. Mama says I'm not supposed to talk to men. Mama says men will hurt me, take me away. The room is bright, it hurts my eyes to open them, it hurts my head to look around. There is no hiding here, there is only walls, something hard off the ground that I'm forced to sit on, something taller like pipes with a flat top. There is no hiding here.

"Lay off, Harmon," the old lady, the long soft-looking clothes, whiter than anything in our shack. She stands behind me, she makes me feel safe, like mama, but she's not mama. "I've seen healthier plague victims than this child, look, you can count her ribs, she doesn't even have hair or eyebrows, she's no threat to anyone. I would fetch her a bowl of hot broth if I thought I could trust you not to accidently break her arm in my absence!"

"Clearly terrified, elevated heartrate, shock signs," a tall lady, covered in shiny metal kneels next to me, she's the biggest person I've ever seen. She's looking at my hand, she tried to take the Broken Guardian. I didn't let her. Now my hand hurts, it hurts a lot. But I can't pull it away from her. I don't want her to take him. "Little one, do you see me? Why is this so important to you?"

"She breached multiple security checkpoints, biometrics, standard locks-" the man is talking so fast that spit is erupting from his red face. It's scary, it's loud, I retreat, I hide, I'm in my pipe, my secret place, I'm safe, I'm warm, I'm…

Hungry

I tell my belly to be quiet. It's so loud, so loud it hurts all the way up to my ears. I can't stay….

I press my hands real tight over my tummy, trying to hush it up. It's yelling louder than ever, and Mama's not here to make it stop. I've been counting the sleeps since she left, more sleeps than ever before, and she's still not back. Mama always comes back.

I remember what Mama said, about staying hid until she's back. But my tummy's so loud, it's like it forgot Mama's rule. I look at the dark, trying to find the kind whispers in the pipe Mama says the Emperor sends to keep us safe. I use my fingers, the way Mama showed me, to talk to Him, 'cause talking out loud isn't safe. No lights, no sounds, that's how we stay hid. But even with my fingers moving, my tummy keeps yelling.

I try to be brave, like the stories Mama tells of heroes and the Emperor. But it's hard when your tummy's louder than your bravery. I think about what Mama would do. She'd say, "Aurora, the Emperor watches, even when it's dark, even when you're scared. He's watching over you."

I've been hiding for so many sleeps, more than ever. I can't feel my legs, the pipe hurts everywhere it touches me. The dark around me feels like a blanket, but it's not warm, not like Mama's hugs. I miss her. My tummy won't stop yelling, and I think maybe, just maybe, the Emperor would understand if I broke Mama's rule just this once.

I start to think about leaving my hidey-spot. Maybe I can find Mama, tell the Emperor with my fingers, "Please, bring Mama back." I'm scared, but the hunger's scarier. I've never left our shack, but Mama's not here, and my tummy's too loud.

I decide. I'm gonna find Mama. She's lost, maybe, and needs me to find her. I take the Broken Guardian, clutching him tight, 'cause he's got a piece of Mama with him, and I step out into the bigger world. It's so big, so scary, but I gotta find her. I gotta tell the Emperor it's too dark and too quiet without Mama.

"She probably crawled up through the sewers or—" the old lady is speaking again, her voice is like mama's it brings me back to the small bright room.

"Impossible," the big metal woman, she's pried my fingers open, she's looking at the Broken Guardian, but she isn't taking it. Her eyes, I can't stop looking at them. They're so big, so deep. She's making signs with her hand, the same signs I'm making. Is her mama lost too? "That's the sort of things you'd read about in fanciful fictions, abbess. Unless she got past our sentries and miles of servo skulls and combat servitors—"

"Security measure's I'm beginning to doubt," the loud man again, still loud. Are all men so loud? Mama says men are all bad and mean. I wish he would leave. I wish he would stop looking at me. "You were the one on the door when she apparently wandered into the service and walked right up to the aquila and—"

And he continues. I close my eyes, my hands signing faster. Maybe the Emperor is having trouble hearing me over the loud man's words.

Noise

Even my belly isn't as loud as the pipes. These aren't like my pipe, or the warm, quiet pipes that heat our home. These pipes are big, bigger than big. The emperor must have made them himself. Maybe he put them together when he made the metal walls, and the ceilings, and the floors, all so big I can't see where they stop or start. I wish he had made them to be quieter.

With the Broken Guardian clutched tight, I keep taking steps, whispering to the Emperor with my fingers to look after me. Mama says she works up high, closer to the Emperor, so I gotta go up. That's what I think as I look at the big, scary world. It's all shadows and sounds, things moving that I can't see. But I gotta find Mama.

I walk, trying to remember to be quiet, like the game Mama and I play, 'Silent Shadows.' Every step feels too loud, and I'm scared the bad things Mama talks about will hear me. But I keep going, 'cause Mama needs me.

The world outside is so different. The ground feels hard and cold, not like our floor with the warm pipe. And the lights, they're not like our soft glow from the cracks. They're too bright, they hurt my eyes. I keep looking up, 'cause Mama said she's up high, cleaning the Emperor's Shrine. I don't know what a shrine looks like, but I think it must be beautiful, with lots of lights and maybe it's warm, like our hidey-spot.

As I try to go up, everything's so big, the stairs seem to go on forever. My legs feel shaky, but I remember what Mama says about the Emperor giving us strength. So, I ask Him, with my fingers, to make my legs strong.

Then, I see her, the light woman. She's not like anyone I've ever seen. She glows, not like the wall spots, but soft, like she's made of the quiet light that comes into the cracks of our home. She doesn't talk, but she makes signs, like me. Her signs are like the ones I use with Mama, but they're also different, stronger, faster.

"Are you lost?" she signs, and her face is kind, not scary, it has lots of lines crisscrossing each other.

I nod, signing back, "Looking for Mama. She's up high, at the Emperor's Shrine." I don't tell her about the loud belly, but I think she knows. I clutch Broken Guardian tightly in my hand.

The light woman smiles, and it's like she knows exactly where Mama is. "I can help you find her," she signs. "Follow me."

I trust her. She reminds me of the stories Mama tells about angels, the Emperor's special helpers. We start moving, and even though I'm still scared, I feel a bit safer. She leads me through places I've never seen, places where the pipes disappear inside the walls, and the lights are brighter and different colors.

As we walk, I keep signing to the Emperor, thanking Him for sending me the light woman. I wonder if she's an angel. Mama says angels are the Emperor's messengers. Maybe she's here to take me to Mama.

We go through tunnels and up more stairs, and everything starts to look different, cleaner. "Is Mama here?" I sign, looking around for any sign of her.

The light woman nods, and we keep going.

"It doesn't matter!" I jump in my seat as the loud man slams his hand down on the flat metal on four pipes, it shakes, I shake. "She's obviously underhive scum that has no business on these hallowed grounds and—"

"Not so fast, Colonel," the metal woman stops holding open my hand and I grip the Broken Guardian tightly again, screwing my eyes shut and signing faster. "Well, isn't this remarkable, she's using battlesign, albeit a crude, archaic version." I don't hear, my tummy is getting loud again. "Emperor, please find my commander, please find my commander, please bring my commander here," the metal woman, she stops my hand, then I look.

"Can you speak to her? Perhaps she's a mute and deaf?" The warm woman, her hands have never left my shoulders. They feel like the light woman's hands, they tell me not to run.

"Ask her how she got in here!"

"Hush," the metal woman moves and her metal clothing makes strange noises and then the flat metal with four pipes is gone and she's sitting in front of me, level with my eyes. She takes my hand.

'Hello, little…' a word I don't know, she signs, 'how did you get here?'

I glance up at her eyes, I'm afraid but she knows my words, just like mama, just like the light woman…

The Light Woman

Following the light woman feels like I'm in one of Mama's stories, where the world's so big and full of things I've never seen. She holds my hand, and it feels warm, safe. We walk into a place with so many people, it's like when water drops leak from the floor pipes and they all rush together. My heart beats so loud, I'm sure the light woman can hear it.

Mama always said to stay away from others, especially men, 'cause they can be mean and take me away. But here, with all these people, nobody even looks at us. It's like we're invisible, or maybe the light woman knows how to walk so the Emperor hides us from their eyes.

We come to a thing Mama never told me about, a magic-lift, the light woman calls it. It's like a box that goes up and down, but it moves without anyone pushing it. My belly forgets to be loud for a moment 'cause I'm trying to understand how we're moving without walking. The light woman squeezes my hand, asking me to be brave without words, just a look. I nod, trying to show her I can be brave, even though I'm shaking.

Then we're on a magic-lev train, and it's like flying without wings. Outside rushes by in a blur, and I press close to the light woman, scared I might fall off the world. But she's steady, like the big pipes by our home that never move, no matter how hard the wind blows.

The streets are crowded, people everywhere, but they don't touch us, don't talk to us, they don't even look. It's noisy, but not like the pipes at home. This noise is made of voices, footsteps, things I don't have names for. I keep my eyes on the light woman, trying not to look too much at everything else. It's all so big, so loud, so fast. My head feels dizzy with all the new things.

But nobody stops us, nobody sees us, it's like we're walking in a little home made by the Emperor for just us. The light woman's hand is the only thing I'm sure of, it's my anchor in this storm of people and noise, light and sound.

I'm so hungry, but the hunger feels far away, like it's waiting for me to stop moving so it can catch up. I don't want it to catch up. I want to find Mama, tell her about the light woman, about the flying without wings, and how we were invisible.

I wonder if Mama will believe me. I wonder if the light woman will stay with us.

'The light woman brought me here to find my commander.' I sign and I hear the woman repeat my sign out loud.

"Light woman?" the hands on my shoulders are tighter than before as the soft woman grips me and leans around so that her hair drapes over the side of my head. I wish I had hair like her. Mama says one day I will grow hair too. I ask the Emperor for hair every night. "As in bright, or?"

"Battle-sign isn't exactly intended to convey complexity or nuance," the woman with the metal clothes stares above me and smiles. It makes me feel a little warmer. She must know where mama is. She looks a little like the light woman but much younger. The light woman must be her mother. This makes me feel much better, especially since the loud man stopped talking. "I'm fairly certain she doesn't mean, 'my commander' or 'my canoness' either."

"Well what does she mean!? Ask her how she got in here, and where this light woman is because that makes two people that slipped in, if we don't figure out where they're crawling out the the slums from we'll never get rid of the infestation. They're like rats, they breed like rats, they smell and look like rats, and I will not have rats in my Schola!" I screw my eyes shut again.

"Colonel, why don't you go organize some men to go search for rats." The soft lady behind me suggests. I wonder what rats are, they don't sound very nice. "Keep your commbead tuned to the Sororitas channel, we will advise you if we gain any intelligence from this small child."

The man's face does something unnatural looking and I know I'll be seeing his eyes in my sleep, glaring at me, bad, mean. I breathe out as he leaves.

'Where is the light woman now?'

The metal clothes woman and the soft woman follow me. I try to lead them to where the light woman took me, but my legs feel like they're made of the same stuff as the Broken Guardian—too heavy, too hard to move. I keep signing, trying to tell them about the light woman, about how she knew the way, but my fingers feel slow and clumsy.

The world starts to blur around the edges, like when Mama talks about the fog that used to roll in when she was little, before she had to come live down below in our home. I want to keep going, to show them the light woman and find Mama, but everything's getting too heavy.

Suddenly, I'm not standing anymore. The woman with metal clothes, Helena, she's got me in her arms. I didn't know people could be so strong. She's carrying me like I'm no heavier than the Broken Guardian, but much more careful, like she knows I'm not just a thing. I try to point, to tell her where to go, but my arm just falls back down.

We're back in the bright room with the high high ceiling and all its lights and the smell of burning stuff that tickles my nose. It's empty, quiet except for the sounds of our breathing and the smiles of all the big people in the shiny holes in the cieling. I point at one of the statues. I sign 'light woman,' hoping they'll understand. The statue looks so still, so peaceful, like the light woman when she smiled at me.

Helena and the soft woman look where I'm pointing, and I can tell they're trying to understand. My hands feel too tired to sign. I open my mouth, it must be ok, it's important they know. "Light, woman," I mumble through thin lips and slow tongue.

The statue's face is kind and strong, like the light woman, like how I imagine the Emperor's angels to be. "Canoness Jeanne Grace D'Emysa," the soft woman says, her voice like a lullaby. The soft woman, looks at the statue, then at me, her face all puzzled. Helena, she just watches me, her eyes kind behind the metal. I feel so tired, like all the sleeps I missed are catching up to me all at once.

As my eyes start to close, I see the light woman again, but she's not standing with us. She's up there, smiling down from the statue. I wonder, in my sleepy, fuzzy thoughts, how she got up there. How did the light woman become a statue? Is that what happens when you're really good, when you help lost kids find their way? Does the Emperor turn you into a statue so you can keep smiling down on everyone?

I can't keep my eyes open anymore, but I'm not scared. Helena's got me, and the soft woman's here, and the light woman's smiling down on us. Maybe Mama's smiling too, wherever she is. I hope she knows I tried to find her, that I was brave. And I hope the Emperor's watching, making sure we're all safe, just like Mama said He would.

Everything goes soft and quiet, and I drift off, still clutching the Broken Guardian, feeling like maybe, just for now, everything's okay.