The flying ship drifted through the night like a silent beast gliding across an endless sea of stars. Beneath its hull, clouds rolled in pale rivers far below, silvered by moonlight. A faint runic glow traced along the ship's edges, ancient symbols pulsing in steady rhythm through the engraved metal. Around the vessel, a translucent dome of Aether shimmered softly, bending the wind around it as the ship moved toward its destination without a pilot's hand.
Most of the passengers had long since retreated below deck. Lamps dimmed behind cabin windows, and the sounds of movement had faded into occasional creaks of timber and the low hum of Aether engines buried deep within the ship.
But Ronan remained awake.
He stood near the edge of the deck, one hand resting against the cold railing as the night wind brushed through his hair. The moon hung full above him, vast and impossibly clear, washing the world in pale silver. The air smelled faintly of metal, old wood, and distant rain hidden somewhere beyond the horizon.
His thoughts refused to quiet.
The souls trapped within the Ruin of Aerion drifted through his memory again.
At first, he had believed the chains binding them belonged to the Goddess of Light—that everything tied back to her. It had seemed simple then—a cruel answer, but still an answer.
Yet days ago, that certainty had shattered.
Those chains had nothing to do with her.
Ronan lowered his gaze toward his hand.
Moonlight slid across his palm.
Slowly, his fingers curled.
"And what the hell is this Silver Flame anyway?" he thought.
The memory returned with uncomfortable clarity. A woman's voice. Calm. Serious.
"If you don't want to be experimented on, then don't reveal the Silver Flame to anyone."
His jaw tightened. No one knew.
For a brief moment, Samantha's face surfaced in his thoughts. He imagined telling her. The honesty of it. The relief of not carrying everything alone. But almost immediately, he closed his hand into a fist.
"She already carries enough." The words settled heavily inside him. "If I ever need help... then I'll tell her."
"Ronan? Aren't you going to sleep?"The voice pulled him back. He turned.
Kael approached from behind, hands tucked loosely into his pockets, his expression relaxed despite the tiredness resting beneath his eyes.
Ronan let out a small breath and forced an awkward smile. "There's too much on my mind."
Kael stopped beside him and leaned against the railing. The ship groaned softly beneath them as it cut through the sky.
For a while, neither spoke. Only wind and moonlight.
Then Kael said, "If you want, you can share it."
Ronan stared upward again. The stars looked endless tonight. "Kael," he said after a pause, "do you remember what that woman said?"
Kael glanced toward him.
"She said I lack resolve." Ronan swallowed slowly. "What did she mean by that?"
Kael's hand tightened slightly around the railing. His expression shifted—not uncomfortable, but careful like someone trying to choose the exact words that would not wound.
He exhaled.
"What she meant…" He paused briefly. "When you fight someone who hasn't proven themselves guilty, you hesitate."
Ronan remained silent.
Kael continued quietly.
"You hold back. Even when the situation becomes dangerous. You don't fight with the intention to kill." He turned his head slightly toward Ronan. "And you're too kind."
Ronan frowned. The answer sat wrong inside him. "If I always think about killing," he said, voice low, "then how am I any different from the monsters we fight?"
A flash crossed his mind.
Heat. Screaming. That moment. That frenzy. For an instant, he remembered the feeling of nearly burning a man alive from the inside out. His stomach tightened. The memory lingered longer than he wanted. He tilted his head slightly. "I'm kind?"
Kael met his eyes. There was no hesitation in his gaze. "Fighting to kill doesn't mean you must kill." The wind shifted between them. Kael looked back toward the horizon. "It means fighting with resolve." His voice stayed calm. "Fighting with the willingness to do what's necessary so you survive. So the people beside you survive."
He tapped the railing lightly with his fingers. "You can stop before crossing that line. But if you hesitate every time, eventually someone faster, crueller, or less merciful will punish you for it."
Ronan said nothing.
Kael's tone softened. "You don't need to become someone else." Moonlight reflected in Kael's eyes. "You're good as you are. Don't force something onto yourself that doesn't belong."
Silence settled again. The ship drifted steadily onward. Far below, clouds shifted like slow-moving waves.
Kael tilted his head toward the moon. "I know what you're thinking." Ronan glanced sideways.
Kael continued. "You care about people more than you admit. You can feel empathy even for strangers who were wronged." A faint smile tugged at his mouth. "But the moment someone hurts the innocent… You become terrifyingly aggressive."
He reached over and rested a hand on Ronan's shoulder. The grip was firm. Grounding. "I trust your resolve, Ronan." The words carried no hesitation. "No matter what that woman said."
Ronan looked down briefly. Something inside his chest loosened. Not gone.
Kael returned his gaze to the moon. "Though there is one thing I don't like about you."
Ronan blinked. "What?"
Kael snorted softly. "The way you cling to your failures."
Ronan stared. Then let out a small breath through his nose. "Oh."
Kael's expression turned thoughtful. "We aren't gods." The words came slowly. "We're mortals. Stronger than most, maybe. But still flawed." He traced a thumb along the railing. "We make mistakes. Sometimes terrible ones." His gaze drifted somewhere distant. "But the past doesn't move."
The wind tugged lightly at his coat. "You can't go back and carve a different path through it." He turned toward Ronan again. "So we fix what we can now."
His voice remained quiet, but steady. "We learn. We train. We become stronger—not to erase what happened…" His eyes narrowed slightly. "But to protect what remains."
Ronan lowered his gaze. The words settled deeper than he expected. The noise in his thoughts dulled.
He let out a slow breath. "Thanks, Kael."
Kael shrugged lightly. "Don't mention it."
A sudden figure stepped between them. "Wow."
Sylphie squeezed into the narrow space, forcing both Ronan and Kael to shift sideways. She leaned forward dramatically, narrowing her eyes between them."This feels suspiciously serious."
Ronan blinked.
Kael immediately looked away, pretending innocence.
Sylphie tilted her head, squinting harder. "So what's happening?"
"Not much," Ronan said.
She leaned closer until her face nearly touched his. "Am I not allowed to hear?"
Ronan instinctively placed his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her back upright. "You're invading personal space."
"That means yes."
"It means stand normally."
She grinned.
Ronan sighed.
"Fine. You can hear."
Sylphie smiled victoriously and leaned against the railing between them. Soon, the conversation drifted elsewhere. They spoke about the mine. About mistakes. About the absurd moments buried between danger.
Kael exaggerated certain details until Sylphie laughed loud enough to echo across the deck. Ronan corrected him more than once, only to get interrupted halfway through. Some memories brought laughter. Others slowed the conversation into quieter moments.
Time slipped by unnoticed. The night deepened. The moon climbed higher. Their voices rose and fell beneath the endless sky.
Not far above them, on the upper deck, two figures stood in silence. Watching. The older man remained still, hands folded behind his back. The moonlight revealed streaks of grey woven through his dark hair. Valmire Viridion.
Beside him stood Alaric. Alaric's gaze followed the group below. After a while, he glanced toward his father. "What are you looking at?"
Valmire did not answer immediately. His eyes remained fixed on Ronan. "Don't you think he resembles your younger brother?"
Alaric stiffened slightly. His mouth parted.
But before he could answer, Valmire continued. "The same kindness." His voice was quiet. Measured. "The same instinct to protect people." The wind shifted across the upper deck. "The same habit of carrying others before himself." His eyes narrowed faintly. "Even their dreams feel alike."
A long pause followed. Below, laughter drifted upward.
Valmire's expression darkened. "And the same kind of Malice."
Alaric lowered his gaze. His silence was answer enough.
Valmire's jaw tightened. "How do they possess it?" His voice sharpened slightly. "I searched every archive available to me." The frustration beneath his calm tone surfaced for only a second. "Nothing."
His fingers curled behind his back. "No history. No explanation." He looked down toward Ronan again. "Do you understand what would happen if the great clans discovered it?"
Alaric remained silent. The quiet between them grew heavy.
Valmire finally turned. His robes shifted softly against the deck as he began walking back toward the cabin. "At first," he said, "I believed Alden, Gedion, and Amara protected Ronan because he reminded them of your brother."
He slowed. "But the longer I watch…" His voice lowered. "The less I believe that."
Alaric's shoulders stiffened.
Valmire stopped without turning around. "You were meant to help him suppress the Malice."
A faint pressure spread through the air. Subtle at first. Then heavier. "But none of you are teaching him."
The Aether around Valmire stirred. A quiet ripple rolled outward. The temperature seemed to drop. "If I discover that you four are nurturing him—" The pressure deepened. The air itself trembled. "—just to enter that secret realm and search for your brother…"
Aether surged briefly around him. Controlled. Sharp. Threatening. "I will not sacrifice one life to reclaim another."
Alaric's breath caught. The ripple struck him like an invisible weight pressing against his chest. His footing shifted. He staggered half a step backwards.
Valmire's voice remained calm. That calmness made it worse. "If it comes to that…" He looked over his shoulder. Cold moonlight reflected across his eyes. "I would not hesitate to behead all four of you." The pressure vanished. Abruptly. Leaving only silence.
Valmire continued walking toward the cabin.
Alaric remained still. For a long moment, he said nothing. His gaze drifted downward one final time. Toward Ronan. Toward the laughter still rising from below. Then he turned and followed after his father.