Åžaczuleman çen-Hyjoxa walked back into her father’s old office, carrying a box full of Gazynzi rüt-Vaǃ̃açit’s – Gazzy’s – office supplies. Other boxes of the new High Commander’s things were already stacked into haphazard towers out of Åžaczuleman’s way. All day, not even twenty-four hours after she was forced to watch daddy die, she had been bringing Gazzy’s stuff in and her father’s stuff out, as per Tråvidices rüt-BagatrajÅ‚an’s request.

                She really hated Tråvidices rüt-BagatrajÅ‚an.

There was only one other time when she could remember feeling so sad. Back w...

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