The Strange Planet
Veyn Oraka
What Inna crossed was never just a gate
Chapter One: Planet Riolim - When the Sky Breathed, Two Million Years Ago
In a planet far removed from our own, located in a galaxy distant even from the Milky Way, exists a world known as Riolim - a planet twice the size of Earth, inhabited by a population twice as large.
It is divided both geographically and politically into fifty kingdoms.
These kingdoms are called "Fabiel", their kings are titled "Radj", and their princes and princesses are known as "Almatar".
Each Fabiel contains several "Rantam" (provinces), with their own governors known as "Albader".
Beyond these political borders lie the Silkoon Zones - unclaimed lands governed by no one, inhabited by scattered tribes and clans, each led by self-appointed commanders.
The people of Riolim live long lives, often reaching hundreds of years, as their cellular development is incredibly slow - as though their bodies were made to endure the passage of centuries.
A week on Riolim is five days long.
Each day lasts eighteen hours.
And a year consists of ten months.
The arrival of a new year is marked by a majestic celestial event: the alignment of the planet's three moons in the night sky.
Let us turn back the pages of time - two million years into the past,
to an age where peace existed only in fairy tales.
Every kingdom was at war with its neighbors, fueled by greed, power, and the lust to seize more than what was theirs.
Even during brief periods of ceasefire, the air remained heavy with suspicion, and the land soaked in the echoes of betrayal.
During one such fragile truce, a sudden spark ignited the flames once again.
The kingdoms of Betaj and Eqot, the very same powers that had proposed the temporary peace, turned against each other -
shocking the entire continent.
The Radj of Eqot, King Kayen, entered his grand military chamber -
a high-tech hall gleaming with the most advanced tools, digital maps, and energy-driven devices.
He took his seat behind a sleek console,
reviewing recent gains and losses from the brewing conflict.
Suddenly, a message arrived through a tiny, highly sophisticated communication device,
designed for stealth messaging on the battlefield.
Its content, encrypted beyond common understanding, could only be decrypted by a select few.
The transmission was brief, but dire:
> "Betaj is planning a surprise attack."
Kayen's eyes narrowed.
His breath grew shallow.
A silence followed -
then he slammed his fist on the desk and barked an immediate order:
> "Send a message to their king -
a warning. One they won't ignore."
When the warning reached the Radj of Betaj, his fury was volcanic.
Without hesitation, he summoned his generals and ordered the army to be divided into four battalions,
each placed under the command of a trusted officer to represent him on the field.
He instructed them to surround Eqot from all directions,
leaving no escape, no blind spots.
Every remaining aerial vehicle was to be launched -
hyper-speed airships loaded with spare weapons and gear,
prepared to resupply the troops mid-battle if needed.
The intelligence swiftly reached Eqot.
King Kayen responded with calculated precision.
He mobilized his elite units, strengthened border defenses,
and dispatched strike teams deep into Betaj's lands,
aiming to cripple them before they could encircle his kingdom.
And so, the match was lit.
The war between Betaj and Eqot erupted - a blaze none could extinguish.
Fear rippled through the neighboring regions.
Everyone knew both kingdoms held the strongest military and most advanced tech on Riolim.
Choosing sides could mean survival - or total annihilation.
No one dared move.
No one dared breathe.
Meanwhile, in the kingdom of Radioli,
a different kind of war was being waged -
one fought not with soldiers or weapons, but with whispers, manipulation, and shadows.
Radioli had long abandoned the spotlight.
Instead, it pulled strings from the dark,
spreading subtle chaos through misinformation and hidden agents.
Their strategy was simple:
Provoke, wait, then strike.
Once the major powers exhausted each other in battle,
Radioli would emerge - untouched, and ready to claim the remains.
In the royal command chamber,
the Radj of Radioli stood silently before a tactical projection.
> "Status of the plan?" he asked.
His advisor smiled.
> "Perfect, sire. Betaj and Eqot are tangled in your net."
The king's expression curled into a deceptive grin,
his eyes filled with ambition - and venom.
For the agent who had warned Eqot of Betaj's attack...
was Radioli's own double spy -
embedded deep within Eqot's military hierarchy.
Just as they had infiltrated other kingdoms.
No throne was out of reach.
And Radioli intended to own everything they did not already possess.
As the king reviewed the latest movements on the war map,
the doors of the chamber burst open.
His son, Saint, stormed in -
his voice sharp, his eyes burning with fury.
> "I heard Eqot and Betaj are at war.
You had a hand in this... didn't you, commander?"
The king exhaled, weary, yet calm.
> "Some fires light themselves.
The hatred between those two... was waiting for a spark."
Saint clenched his fists.
> "As I thought. You set it ablaze.
No one lights a flame from ashes - but you found a way."
The king turned to him slowly.
> "You're wrong. There were no ashes.
Only dry wood waiting beneath the surface.
And sometimes, to feel warmth, one must burn a little timber."
Saint's lips tightened.
> "I also heard one of Betaj's unit commanders is Rod."
His father raised an eyebrow.
> "Ah, Rod... your dearest friend, wasn't he?"
> "He was my friend.
Now he's a traitor - one I'll face myself."
> "And what is it you want from me?" the king asked.
> "Simple," Saint said.
"I want to join the war."
The room fell silent.
The advisors froze. Even the guards exchanged glances.
The king sighed and turned toward his son.
> "I know the hatred in your heart clouds your judgment,
but the fall of men and kingdoms begins when their leaders lose control over emotion."
> "But-" Saint tried to speak.
The king rose from his seat and placed a data crystal - glowing with war updates and spy reports - on the command table.
> "A true commander doesn't fight for vengeance.
He bears the hopes of an entire kingdom.
And sometimes... that means choosing what's right, not what feels righteous."
Saint's expression hardened.
He placed a hand over his chest and pointed toward the tall window behind his father.
> "I understand.
The endurance of nations depends on the wisdom of their leaders -
and their survival is measured by foresight and restraint in moments like these."
The king smiled.
It was a kind smile - but with cunning behind it.
> "Since you understand, return to your training.
Be ready. You may be summoned at any moment in the days to come."
Saint gave him a look of disappointment.
He knew that smile -
it meant nothing he could say would change his father's mind.
Saint left the command chamber, frustration etched into every line of his face.
He knew that smile.
His father had made up his mind - and no one, not even his mother, could change it.
As he stormed down the corridor, one of his fellow soldiers approached.
> "Hey, I heard Rod is leading one of Betaj's battalions."
> "I know," Saint said curtly.
> "Then doesn't that mean his father trusts him with full command?
I bet he'll be promoted the moment this war ends."
Saint clenched his jaw.
His voice dropped.
> "That means he'll have everything.
Even the one thing I fear most."
The soldier blinked, confused.
> "What do you mean?"
But Saint didn't answer.
Instead, he walked faster, his eyes burning with resolve.
Inside his private chamber, Saint shut the door behind him and moved to the wall.
He unlocked a hidden compartment, revealing scrolls, maps - and a photograph.
It was old, slightly torn at the edges.
It showed him and Rod, arms over each other's shoulders, surrounded by old friends.
He stared at it for a moment...
then tore it in half.
> "I'll never forgive you.
I never thought you'd dare betray me like this."
He tossed the pieces into the waste bin.
Then he reached in and pulled out a sword forged from a rare crystal ore -
a weapon known as Gola, light as wind, deadly as fire.
Its blade glowed faintly, humming with destructive energy.
He packed it carefully into a traveler's bag, the kind used for long expeditions, hoping it would pass unnoticed.
That night, he waited.
He ate in silence.
Then lay in bed, feigning sleep... until the corridors grew still.
After a long wait,
when all sounds in the corridors had faded into silence,
Saint slowly slipped out of his room -
his traveler's bag slung over his shoulder, Gola hidden inside.
He moved quietly, careful not to alert the patrolling officers.
But just as he turned a corner near the exit gate,
a voice called out behind him:
> "Saint?"
He froze.
Slowly, he turned.
Standing there in the shadows was his fellow soldier and longtime rival -
Dareem.
Saint raised a finger to his lips, signaling for silence.
> "What are you doing at this hour?" Dareem asked.
> "They told me my mother's fallen ill.
I want to check on her."
Dareem folded his arms, unimpressed.
> "Really? That's the best lie you could come up with?"
> "Is it that bad?" Saint muttered.
> "Worse," Dareem said. "This is Mojna, remember?
No contact with the outside unless authorized.
If a family wants to reach you, it goes through command. And your father was here today."
> "Right... I forgot," Saint said, eyes narrowing.
> "So what's the real reason? Don't tell me you're..."
Saint placed a firm hand on Dareem's shoulder.
> "I don't have time to explain.
I just... have to do this."
> "You can't be serious," Dareem whispered.
"Do you realize what you're risking?"
> "I do.
But if I don't do it now... I may never get the chance."
> "You're calling this a chance?!" Dareem hissed.
Saint gave a tired nod.
> "Rod won't be near the battlefield again anytime soon."
> "Then I won't let you go - not alone."
> "I have Gola in my bag," Saint warned.
Dareem's face paled.
> "You've lost your mind."
> "Maybe. But this ends tonight."
> "What are you trying to prove?!" Dareem shouted.
> "Lower your voice!" Saint snapped.
> "No! I want them to hear!"
> "Then cry all you want, but I'm leaving."
Saint turned, but Dareem grabbed his arm.
> "Wait! Don't go alone."
Saint looked back, surprised.
> "This doesn't concern you."
> "Of course it does," Dareem snapped.
"You're reckless, impulsive - and if I'm not there, who knows what disaster you'll cause."
A small smile tugged at Saint's lips.
> "Fine. But hurry."
Dareem dashed to grab his combat gear and his own Gola, stuffing them into a bag.
> "Ready," he said, breathless. "Let's go."
Saint chuckled.
> "You look more excited than I am."
> "Do I look excited to you?" Dareem groaned, adjusting his boots.
Together, they slipped through the outer gates,
into the dark -
heading straight for the lands of Eqot,
where Rod is.
While the world burned in conflict,
and kings obsessed over borders and bloodlines,
one man's mind wandered far beyond Riolim - and even beyond time itself.
His name was Vetin -
a scientist long forgotten by society,
banished for his "madness,"
for claiming that other worlds existed...
not just in other galaxies,
but in entirely different dimensions
---
They called him insane.
But he never stopped.
In his isolated mountain lab -
built from salvaged materials and shielded by dense forests -
Vetin worked tirelessly,
sending out invisible frequencies that only creatures beyond human comprehension might hear.
His goal wasn't war, or wealth,
but to communicate with the unknown.
He believed that out there - beyond the stars and the laws of physics -
were beings who listened...
and waited.
---
That night, something changed.
As he calibrated his experimental device - one designed to resonate across dimensions -
a soft whistling tone filled the room.
It grew louder.
Then louder still.
Vetin's eyes widened.
> "Are... are those responses?" he whispered.
"Have I actually pierced the barrier of space-time?"
He didn't get a chance to finish his thought.
A thunderous thud hit the door.
He pulled back the black curtain shielding the window -
and what he saw froze his breath.
---
Outside, dozens of creatures had gathered.
Teqi birds - large, majestic beasts with four wings and radiant feathers -
rare to the point of legend
now circled his lab, drawn by the device's call.
Behind them, lumbering into view, were Kibo beasts -
gigantic horned animals known for their brute strength.
One charge could flatten a house.
> "What in the name of the moons...?" Vetin gasped.
"The frequencies attracted them?!"
He paused, processing.
> "I was hoping for visitors from another world...
not rare dinner guests from this one."
> "Well... I suppose I've gained something rare after all," Vetin muttered
"Even if it's not from another world - it's still fresh... and expensive."
He glanced again at the gathering beasts.
> "Looks like I've just solved my food problem for the next few days."
He waited until the Kibo lost interest and wandered off.
A few of the Teqi birds, however, had been trampled during the chaos.
With a resigned shrug, he stepped outside,
dragged the feathered bodies back in,
and pulled out an old, dented cooking pot -
its sides blackened with soot from years of lonely meals.
He stared at the pot, his voice soft:
> "When was the last time I had a proper meal?"
---
As the meat sizzled, he prepared a plate and sat cross-legged on the floor.
The first bite... was awful.
> "This is what they call the world's finest delicacy?" he coughed.
"It tastes like burnt shoes wrapped in disappointment."
He glared at the plate.
> "And now I'm talking to my food. Great.
I've finally lost it."
Then he chuckled.
> "Still... I should be thankful.
Beats chewing bark and drinking moss tea."
---
Later, lying on his handmade wooden bed,
his pillow stitched from old lab coats,
he stared at the ceiling.
> "If no one from another world answers...
at least I'll have dinner."
He pulled the blanket over his shoulders.
> "Tomorrow, we try again."
And with that -
the madman who dared to talk to the stars...
finally fell asleep.
Chapter one ended....