According to the Chronicles of Mauldra, Jandarix slew one thousand enemy warriors in a single day of battle. For this deed, which historians say unbalanced the war in favor of the Sabrian Empire, Emperor Thandaris II awarded Jandarix one hundred slaves of exceptional stock. In an unprecedented display of devotion to the empire, Jandarix immediately executed fifty, proclaiming them unfit to serve.

All of this took place over seven thousand years ago. Now the only remaining evidence of Jandarix’s exploits are the records of his service and a statue. Master artisans of the time carved the sculpture from a single stone taken from the peak of the tallest mountain on the sabrian home world, Mauldra. The two-and-a-half-meter tall effigy stood in the main hall of Lord Barosh’s home, a frozen testament to the legendary hero’s ferocity. In equal measure, the statue’s prominence was a display of the merchant’s imperial devotion and incalculable wealth.

Saul gripped the stone carving of Jandarix’s shin guard as he crouched behind the statue and peeked down the length of the black marble corridor. He spotted Tasr’s flicking tail poking out from behind the monolithic form of another sabrian hero. Saul tiptoed across the hall and pressed his back against the wall. He crept closer, guiding his feet in measured steps. When he reached the base of the statue, he placed his fingertips on the ground and crouched. He grinned at the top of Tasr’s head, bulging out from around the corner.

Saul leapt in front of his prey, arms raised above his head. “Kneel before Jandarix, champion of the empire!”

Tasr’s eyes rolled upward from beneath a thick brow of gray, armor-like skin. “You’re not Jandarix. I am.”

“No,” Saul said, placing his hands on his hips. “You’re Pra- tis, captain of the Golden Phalanx.”

“Why do I always have to be the one who loses?”

Saul smiled. “Because you’re the one who always loses.” Tasr rose to his feet. His plates of armored skin slid smoothly over each other as he extended to his full height.

Saul smirked and stared up at the face of the abramite boy.

“You don’t want to play anymore?”

“Yeah,” Tasr replied. “Let’s play crush the human.”

Tasr lunged at Saul, lifting the scrawny human boy off his feet and pinning him to the ground.

“Come on, Jandarix,” Tasr said, his grin revealing two rows of large, flat teeth. “I thought you were the champion of the empire.”

Saul squirmed and thrashed beneath the weight of Tasr’s hulking mass. “Get off me!”

The boys froze and locked eyes at the sound of a stern, familiar voice. “What are you two doing?”

They scrambled to their feet and hurried to the center of the hall. Tasr’s mother, Moora, stood with her arms folded across her chest. She glared at Saul and Tasr as they folded their hands behind their backs and stared down at the floor.

“You know you’re not supposed to play here,” Moora said. “And what did I tell you about fighting?”

“He started it,” Tasr replied.

“I did not,” Saul said.

Tasr winced as his mother pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t care who started it,” Moora said. “Saul is a human. He can’t help himself. But you know better, Tasr.”

Saul’s grin faded as Moora turned her gaze upon him. She glanced down and grabbed the collar around his neck.

“You need to get your collar refitted,” she said. “The owner’s mark must always be in front.”

Saul grimaced and tugged at the black ring of metal around his neck.

Moora shook her head and brushed back Saul’s disheveled strands of light-brown hair. “The recital will start soon, and when the performance is over, you’d best find your way to the reception.”

Saul nodded and watched Moora press her hand against Tasr’s back. She led her son down the hall and around the corner. Saul followed their path and turned in the opposite direction. He jogged to the end of the passageway and glanced around to confirm no one was watching before descending the stairs, which led to the building’s maze of service corridors.

After navigating a series of turns and straightaways, Saul approached the base of a metal ladder, ascending to dimly lit heights along the back of a large wooden structure. Hand over hand, he began the climb. Halfway to the top, he studied the rows of long, metal pipes rising from the organ.

On occasion, Saul and Tasr smuggled a few of the notched tubes to a secluded section of Lord Barosh’s garden. They amassed a modest collection, spending late afternoons blowing in the ends, producing high and low tones. The cacophony sounded nothing like the soaring compositions of the organist.

Saul reached the full length of the ladder and stepped onto a ledge leading out to the side of the organ. From between two sets of pipes, he peeked down at the gathering below.

The burgundy walls of the music hall were decorated with gold edging and finely detailed fixtures. Black banners displaying the emblem of the Sabrian Empire, a red eye set in the palm of a golden hand, hung from the ceiling to the floor. Light from intricately carved lamps bathed the room in a soft, red glow. Elite members of sabrian society filled the rows of ornate, high-backed seats cascading from the entrance down to the stage. The eyes of lords, vice-ministers, and military commanders were fixed upon the raised platform directly below Saul’s elevated position.

Saul extended on the tips of his toes and strained to peer over the edge of the organ. Below, standing center stage, he saw his mother, Lucia. Her long, high-collared black gown fanned out onto the floor around her feet, edged with shimmering silver fabric. She tilted her head back, and the murmuring crowd grew silent.

Lucia’s voice stretched out in a low note, reverberating through the hall. The narrow red eyes of the sabri widened to slits of crimson joy. She raised her right hand slowly above her head, the pitch of her voice increasing as if controlled by the motion.

Saul lost track of time as he listened to his mother sing the ancient sabrian ballad of glorious battle. The operatic highs and lows ended in a piercing crescendo, bringing the audience to their feet and filling the hall with deafening applause. He smiled as he watched her bow and then scurried down the ladder to make his way to the reception.