The Hidden Path

No person alone can see all paths. To consult others is not weakness but wisdom. - The Republic Codex

I wake from fitful dreams to the dim glow of the Stardancer’s crew quarters. For a moment I don’t remember where I am - only the ache of bruises on my limbs and a heaviness in my chest. Then it all comes rushing back: Father’s death, the frantic escape, Malkeos’s boarding party and our narrow escape. My stomach clenches with grief and the lingering adrenaline of battle.

I push myself upright on the narrow cot. Across the small cabin, Zara sleeps slumped in a sling - back chair, arms folded tight. Tarin is absent - likely on the bridge with Captain Renaud. I rub my face with trembling hands. Everything feels unreal, yet the pang of loss in my heart is very real.

Careful not to disturb Zara, I stand. My reflection in a polished metal panel startles me - a pale, drawn - faced boy stares back, eyes red - rimmed and haunted. I barely recognize myself. With a shaky breath, I turn away.

Soft rustling behind me: Zara stirs and sits up, blinking. “Jameus…? Can’t sleep?” she asks, voice thick with fatigue.

I manage a faint smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

She shakes her head and rises, stretching. “I wasn’t truly asleep.” She crosses the tiny cabin, and we stand face to face in the low amber light. “How are you holding up?”

“I… don’t know,” I admit. It’s the truth. “Relieved we’re alive. Worried about what’s next. And - I miss him. I miss my father.” My voice cracks on the last word.

Zara’s expression melts with sympathy. Without a word, she pulls me into a hug. I stiffen briefly in surprise, then sag against her, gratefully accepting the comfort. “I’m so sorry, Jameus,” she whispers. “Aldren was… he was wonderful. I only knew him a short time, but even I could tell.”

A tear slips down my cheek, quickly soaked into Zara’s shoulder. “He trusted me to finish what he started,” I murmur. “I’m scared I’ll let him down.”

She steps back, hands on my shoulders, and looks me square in the eyes. “You won’t. You’re stronger than you think. I see it, Tarin sees it - Aldren certainly saw it.” Her lips quirk in the barest smile. “Besides, you’re not alone in this. Two heads, remember?”

I huff a soft, wet laugh at the callback to when she offered to help in the chapel. “I’m glad you’re here,” I say earnestly. “Both of you. I… couldn’t do this by myself.”

Zara’s eyes shine kindly. “And you don’t have to.” She squeezes my arm, then tilts her head toward the door. “Come on. Let’s find Tarin. We should be close to Oratorio’s system by now.”

My heart flips at the thought. We gathered our courage and knowledge, and now the destination is near.

We navigate the narrow corridors toward the bridge. The steady thrum of the engines has changed in tone - I suspect we’re decelerating from hyperspace. Sure enough, as we reach the cockpit doorway, Captain Renaud is at the controls, grumbling under his breath, and Tarin stands behind him watching the viewport.

The swirl of FTL travel outside stretches back into individual stars as we drop to sublight. Dominating the view ahead is a giant amber - hued planet banded with swirling storms - Odrys Prime.

My breath catches. We made it. Somewhere around that gas giant orbits Oratorio’s hidden moon.

Captain Renaud huffs. “So this is what you dragged me out here for? A dead system.”

Tarin leans forward. “Scan for moons.”

“Already on it,” the co - pilot says. “Odrys Prime has six natural satellites… One with a breathable atmo and anomalous energy readings. Small - likely terraformed.”

Zara grabs my hand and gives it an excited squeeze. That must be Oratorio. On the sensor holodisplay, the moon appears as a grey blip with faint green patches and a subtle energy signature of a cloaked installation.

We exchange hopeful looks. Tarin turns to Renaud. “Take us in slowly. They may have defenses.”

Almost as if on cue, a proximity alert beeps. “Picking up a localized beacon,” the co - pilot reports. “Someone’s pinging us from the moon.”

Captain Renaud opens a channel, a bit nervously. “Unidentified installation on Odrys moon, this is freighter Stardancer out of D’cairn Station. Request permission to approach. We come in peace.”

There’s a pause crackling with static. Then a voice responds, low and stern: “Stardancer, state your purpose and passengers.”

Tarin motions Renaud aside and speaks crisply. “This is Lieutenant Tarin of Arcadian Patrol accompanying Jameus, son of Aldren of D’cairn Station. We seek sanctuary with the Order of Oratorio. We bear Aldren’s writings and an urgent warning: Malkeos is in pursuit.”

Muted exclamations buzz through the comm. Then a different voice, calm and aged: “Your arrival is expected. You are cleared to land, Jameus Aldren - son. transmitting coordinates. Welcome, and hurry.”

Expected? By whom? I barely have time to wonder when Renaud guides the Stardancer along the transmitted flight path. I peer out as the moon grows in the viewport - a rugged orb half in daylight. We skim over jagged mountains and a patchwork of forested valleys.

“There,” Zara murmurs, pointing. Nestled in the lap of a mountain is a complex of buildings around a terraced courtyard. Even from above I can see classical columns and domes, and a large circular stone plaza built into the mountain’s side.

Oratorio. A sanctuary hidden in emptiness, yet seemingly alive and well.

Renaud sets the freighter down on a flat stone landing field at the edge of the complex. The hull reverberates as the landing struts engage. He powers down the engines with an air of finality.

I exhale a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. We’ve arrived at last. Outside the viewport, a few robed figures stand at a cautious distance, awaiting us.

Captain Renaud rubs his face. “Right. I delivered you. I’ll refuel if they let me and then I’m off. I’ve had enough of warlords and mysteries.”

“Understood. And thank you, Captain,” Tarin says, offering a hand. Renaud shakes it and even musters a half - smile my way.

“Good luck, kid,” he grunts to me. “You’re gonna need it.” With that, he turns to the business of his ship, leaving us to our fates.

We gather at the top of the cargo ramp as it lowers. My heart flutters with nerves. I smooth a hand over my jacket where Father’s notebook is tucked securely, and feel the reassuring lumps of the flame token and broken pieces of the others in my pocket. Tarin and Zara flank me.

Bright daylight streams in as the ramp touches ground. A mild, pine - scented breeze wafts up. We descend onto solid ground - the lost moon of Oratorio under our feet.

A welcoming party approaches slowly. Half a dozen figures in simple grey and blue robes, hoods down, showing faces of varying ages. I scan them, heart pounding with a strange anticipation. At their head strides an elderly man with a long silver beard and walking staff. Even from afar, there’s something familiar in his posture.

“Master Keldan,” I whisper. Father described him often - his mentor and friend from long ago. The old monk’s hazel eyes are sharp and tearful as he looks at me.

We come to a halt a few paces from the monks. For a moment, no one speaks. I swallow hard and step forward, breaking protocol perhaps, but emotion propels me. I bow low. “Master Keldan… I’m Jameus. Aldren’s son.”

At my words, the elder’s composure cracks. He closes the distance and lays trembling hands on my shoulders. “Jameus Aldren - son,” he says, voice warm and thick. “Welcome to Oratorio, though darkness dogs your path.”

My eyes fill unexpectedly with tears. “Master, my father - ” I begin, voice hitching. “He’s gone. Malkeos… Malkeos came for him.” The words spill out brokenly.

A ripple of sadness passes through the monks. Keldan’s eyes shine as he bows his head. “Aldren… may Harmony welcome him home. He was as a son to me here.” He looks at me again and gently wipes a tear from my cheek with a wizened thumb. “And you are as a grandson, though we’ve never met until now.”

Behind him, a younger woman with a shaven head except a brown topknot steps forward, her brow creased with concern. “Did you say Malkeos?” she asks tightly. “He knows of this place?”

Tarin clears his throat and answers. “Yes. He likely tracked us here. We believe he’s not far behind - perhaps an hour or two.”

This news sends uneasy murmurs through the monks. A wiry, hawk - faced man among them mutters, “Master, we must prepare - ”

“Yes,” Keldan interjects gravely. “We feared this day. Come, all of you - inside the sanctuary walls. We’ll convene the council at once.” He motions urgently for us to follow.

As they lead us toward the monastery’s main gate, Zara whispers to me, “They’re not turning us away. That’s a good start.”

Despite everything, I feel a weight lift. We found Oratorio - and they are welcoming us, not shunning us. I tighten my grip on Father’s journal. We made it, Dad.

But Malkeos is coming. And I can sense in the tense set of the monks’ shoulders that an old fear is coming to life for them. I trade a glance with Tarin and Zara. We have arrived at the sanctuary, but our greatest trial might yet lie ahead.

Together we pass under an archway carved with flowing script from the Codex. Within those stone walls, I pray we’ll find not only refuge but the wisdom and courage to face what’s coming.