The morning after the Visitors left was painfully bright. Kishorio gleamed beneath its twin suns as if nothing had changed — airships drifted lazily over the canals, and students laughed in the courtyards of the World Academy. Yet to those who knew how to listen, the city's hum had shifted. The ley lines beneath the capital pulsed slower, and the mana currents swirled with quiet tension.
From the royal balcony, King Kayden Fross stood in silence. The winds whispered through his silver-trimmed coat, carrying with them the scent of the waterfalls that cascaded from the island's edges. His gaze swept across the golden towers, but his thoughts were far from them — they lingered in the cold dark beyond the stars.
He had faced countless challenges as a ruler — rebellions, elemental storms, even plagues of corrupted mana. But this… this was different.
This was the first time the threat had looked down upon them from the heavens.
Behind him, a gentle voice broke through the silence.
"You've been standing here for hours again, haven't you?"
Kayden turned — and for a moment, the heaviness in his chest eased.
Standing by the arched doorway was Kirti Shruk, the one person who could still make the world seem simple. Her golden hair caught the sunlight as she stepped into the balcony's glow, and the silver-blue threads of her gown fluttered softly around her. She moved with grace born not of royalty, but of quiet confidence.
"Kirti," Kayden said, his tone softening. "You shouldn't have come this early."
She smiled — that same patient, knowing smile that had calmed him since youth.
"And leave you alone with your thoughts? You'd start rebuilding the stars themselves just to distract your mind."
A faint chuckle escaped him. "Wouldn't be the worst use of time."
She approached, stopping beside him at the balcony rail. For a long moment, neither spoke. Together, they looked upon the empire — their empire — glowing beneath the morning light.
The Shruk Legacy
The Shruk family had stood beside the Frossmen for generations. Duke Elarion Shruk, Kirti's father, was Kayden's father's closest friend since the age of seven — two boys who grew into men who shaped the course of the world. Together, they built the foundation that merged science and magic into one breath of progress.
The Shruk estates lay north of Kishorio, overlooking the Crystal Veins — the heart of the empire's mana reserves. It was said that the Shruk family's scholars could read the flow of mana like poetry, and their engineers could craft machines that breathed life into stone. It was they who helped Kayden design the floating island's stability core and the defensive shield that cloaked the capital in light.
To the people, the name Shruk meant loyalty. To the royal family, it meant family itself.
The Promise of Years
Kayden's mind drifted back — twelve years old, standing awkwardly in the palace gardens during his coronation as Crown Prince. He had wanted to be anywhere but there, suffocating beneath layers of silk and titles.
That was when a girl his age approached, holding a slice of stolen cake.
"You don't look like a prince," she said, tilting her head. "You look like someone who hates wearing crowns."
He had blinked at her, startled — and then, for the first time that day, laughed.
"You're not supposed to say that to royalty."
"Then stop looking like royalty," she said, grinning. "Look like you."
From that day, Kirti Shruk had been his only constant.
When he buried himself in research, she brought him food and scolded him for skipping sleep.
When he doubted himself before his coronation, she reminded him that his heart was what made him a king — not his power.
And when he rose to the throne at eighteen, it was her steady faith that became his anchor.
Back in the present, Kayden turned to her. "You've heard what happened yesterday."
Her expression grew calm, but not fearful. "The entire city did. The voice reached even the Shruk estates."
She paused, studying his face. "They asked for you."
"They did," Kayden admitted quietly. "And they'll return. It wasn't a threat — it was a declaration."
"Then you'll be ready," she said simply.
He glanced at her — not at her beauty, nor at her grace, but at her certainty.
"You don't even doubt it."
"I never have," she said, stepping closer. "You're Kayden Fross — not because you command armies, but because you understand the world better than anyone else. Whatever they are, they underestimate that."
For a long moment, he simply looked at her — the woman who had always believed, even when the world itself began to tremble. Then he reached into his coat and withdrew a small crystalline pendant, glowing faintly with soft blue light.
"What is this?" she asked softly.
"A fragment of the ley channel core," Kayden replied. "Infused with my mana. It will protect you if the skies ever fall."
Her fingers brushed his as she took it. "You make it sound like you're preparing for war."
He met her gaze — calm, unreadable. "I'm preparing for everything."
The castle bells rang in the distance — a soft, melodic tone that carried across the floating isle. Below them, the city glimmered with life, unaware that the empire stood at the edge of an unseen storm.
Kirti looked over the railing, her eyes thoughtful. "Do you think peace can last forever?"
Kayden's voice was quiet. "No peace is eternal, Kirti. But every peace is worth fighting for."
She smiled faintly. "Then I'll fight for yours."
He turned toward her, touched her cheek gently. "No," he said softly. "You'll live for it. That's worth far more."
That evening, as the twin suns dipped below the horizon, the Shruk family joined the royal council for a private meeting. The grand hall shimmered with crystal light as Duke Elarion bowed before the throne.
"Your Majesty," he began, "the northern observatories have recorded tremors in the upper atmosphere. Something vast moves beyond our sensors."
Kayden nodded. "The Visitors are not gone. They're watching. Testing our patience."
The Duke's eyes hardened. "Then perhaps it is time we show them the will of mankind."
Aurel's hand tightened around his sword hilt. "I couldn't agree more."
But Kayden lifted a hand. "Not yet. We move when they force our hand — not before. Until then, every division must prepare in silence."
Kirti sat quietly beside her father, her gaze fixed on Kayden. She said nothing — she didn't need to. Her faith in him spoke louder than words.
As the council adjourned, she caught his hand beneath the table, a quiet promise shared between two souls standing at the edge of destiny.
"Whatever comes," she whispered, "I'll be here."
"I know," he replied softly. "And that's what gives me strength."
That night, as Kishorio slept beneath its starlit veil, a faint rumble echoed from beyond the sky.
The alien vessel, now hidden in the shadows of the outer atmosphere, began to stir.
Its surface rippled — alive, aware, waiting.
And on the balcony of the royal castle, Kayden stood once more, eyes raised toward the stars.
The pendant around Kirti's neck glowed faintly from afar — resonating with his mana, a silent bond across the night.
"Five days," he murmured to the dark.
"Five days until dawn turns to fire."
TO BE CONTINUE…