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I said there wasn’t much my mother could tell me about the history of the world.  There was one story though, which may as well have been myth for all I’d really believed it, but the diarists had put it in their preface anyway.

I’d been a little cub when first I’d heard it; I’d heard that off-worlders could see all sorts of things in the sky—suns, moons, stars, and how much of the time the whole thing might be lit up in blue or pink or whatever… and I asked her why our sky was just black.

And she told me the story of Bαkhfikeιννᴥi, which the diarists had translated as “Frontarius”.  I thought it really ought to be “Frontier,” since it was the same as our name for the planet, but I guess “Frontier” isn’t a manly name in their language.

Anyway, Frontarius was a king of icebears back in ancient times…