Calligo always struggled to position himself comfortably on his new bed. He was never used to a static slumber, where a vessel was not soaring at light speeds through the cosmos beneath him. Now, he fidgets constantly on his feather mattress to simulate the swaying of turbulence in the vacuum of the universe. This odd practice functioned well, as Calligo could sleep for extensive periods of time.
9:00 A.M. was the time Calligo picked to open his eyes each morning. He found it a suitable time for how late his training would last for. Opening his eyes, he slammed his palm down on the obnoxious alarm that vibrated on his nightstand. He stood up, caught unbalanced. He still woke up trying to compensate his body weight like he would on his father’s ship. Calligo could not accustom himself to stable ground, even though it had already been five months from his last excursion.
Calligo approached the solitary window in his room and parted the curtains, shutting his eyes so that they would not consume too much light at once. However, the sunlight was shrouded by a congregation of clouds, allowing Calligo to open his eyes in an instant. When he tilted his head toward the glass, he squinted at a squadron of objects slashing the stratosphere.
The objects moved at a slow, foreboding pace. Even at its far-off distance, Calligo recognized the stars that approached: ships from the Cantarri state.
Calligo’s hands tightened their grip on his curtains, yet his focus remained on the fleet. The color in his face was wiped clean, until he shut the world out again, and walked to the kitchen.
Towering over the stove was his mother, whose stood tall, yet fragile. Black hairs were sprinkled about her head, being encroached by a blanket of grey. “Your mentor came by a couple minutes ago,” she said, shuffling her spatula around the pan.
Calligo was so dazed from the Cantarri fleet that he must not have heard the door knock. “Is it because—?”
“Have you looked outside?”
“Then yes, exactly why. You’ve been summoned.” Calligo’s mother turned off the stove, “Are they going to make you fight?”
“I doubt it. I’m still just a cadet.”
“Well, eat your breakfast quickly. I promised them you would be there by 10 A.M.”
“Right,” Calligo responded. Usually he would crack a joke, but this was not the occasion. Cantarri fleets were hovering over Desmus, making Calligo anxious and edgy.
Calligo nearly swallowed his scramble eggs whole, and charged out the house.