Chapter 19
CYPHER
From the moment I drew breath, I carried a destiny no child should bear.
Then came the years of failure, of watching hope wither like neglected crops.
Our people, once proud Nytherians, drifted between realms like ash after a fire, stripped of leadership, of magic, of identity.
The elders who remembered our homeland's glory faded one by one until only their stories remained, pale shadows of truth.
The children knew nothing but the aftermath—the screams, the hunger, the desperate flight.
I was eight when I last saw my sister, her fingers slipping from mine as the portal tore us apart. "I'll find you," I'd promised. Even now, I could hear my father's final command cutting through the chaos. "The burden is yours now, son. Carry it until your dying breath."
I couldn't push down the memories that flooded back as I watched the Assembly barges breach the First Dark. The day Nytheris collapsed played in my mind with perfect clarity. The screaming, the ground splintering beneath our feet, the very air crackling with corruption.
Father had thrust me toward the skiffs, his crown askew, his face streaked with the blood of the royal guards who'd fallen defending the evacuation point. "Take him," he'd ordered my mother, who stood frozen, torn between her husband and her son. "He must survive."
I remembered fighting, kicking against the hands that dragged me onto the skiff. "No! Father! Runa!" I screamed until my throat was raw.
My sister had stood beside our father, her copper eyes—so like our mother's, so like mine—meeting mine across the growing chasm.
She was fifteen to my eight, the crown princess, the rightful heir.
It should have been her on that skiff, not me.
I was just the spare, the second child, the one they'd never expected to rule.
"The king goes first!" I'd shouted, reciting the evacuation protocols we'd been taught since we could walk. "The line must be preserved!"
But my father had never intended to leave. I understood that now, though it had taken me years to accept it. He'd known Nytheris was beyond saving, that someone needed to stay behind to help as many of our people to escape as possible. He'd chosen to be that sacrifice.
What still haunted me was Runa's expression as our skiff pulled away.
There was devastation there, yes, but also resignation.
As if she'd known this moment was coming, as if she'd already made peace with her fate.
She'd raised her hand in the traditional Nytherian farewell, palm flat, hand upturned, fingers spread to symbolize the paths that branch before us all.
"I love you," she'd mouthed. "Remember."
The portal had sealed behind us, cutting off my view of her face. The last thing I saw of my homeland was the palace spire cracking down the middle like a lightning-struck tree.
We'd barely emerged on the other side, our skiff tumbling through the Gallery's currents, when the Assembly intercepted us. Three barges, identical to the ones now breaching the First Dark, had surrounded our small fleet of refugee vessels.
"We're here to help," the commander had announced, his smile not reaching his eyes. "We're taking you to a processing center where you'll be fed, given medical attention, and prepared for integration into the Prime Realm."
My mother had gripped my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin through my torn royal garments. She'd known it was a lie, even as the other refugees had wept with relief. But we were outnumbered. We had no choice but to board their barges.
The "processing center" turned out to be the Dredge—a prison designed to drift through the Gallery, harvesting anchor crystals from the void itself.
They separated the children from the adults, claiming it was for our protection.
I didn't get to see my mother again until three years later, when she was a shell of herself, her once-proud spirit broken by whatever they'd done to her.
The lucky ones were those who'd refused to board the barges, who'd taken their chances in the Gallery's treacherous currents. Many died, but at least they died free.
Now, watching history repeat itself as Assembly forces invaded the First Dark, rage burned through me like acid. I would not let them take more from me. Not Juno, not my crew, and certainly not the Genesis Engine.
The Assembly had no right to be here. No human should be able to force their way into the First Dark like this.
The corrupted magic inside me writhed like a nest of serpents, responding to the violation.
I could taste metal in my mouth, feel the darkness gathering around my fingertips, ready to attack.
The First Dark itself was reacting, rippling with rage at this intrusion.
The last barge was still halfway through the unnatural tear when the portal began to collapse. It was rejecting the invaders.
"Move!" I shouted to my crew, grabbing Juno's arm. "It's going to—"
The portal slammed shut with a sound like thunder, cleaving through the trailing barge as if it were nothing but dust. For one frozen moment, the severed vessel hung suspended in the darkness—then it detonated. The shockwave hit us before the sound, knocking several of us off our feet.
"What the fuck was that?" Kora screamed, her hands over her ears.
Vic staggered to his feet, his face ashen as he stared at the remaining Assembly barges now circling overhead.
"They must have tracked Gideon Pike here.
It's the only way... but I don't understand how they created a direct portal.
That shouldn't be possible. No one can just tear into the First Dark like this. "
"We need to move," I ordered as I pulled out my sword. The way-finder in my other hand was pulsing frantically now, almost vibrating with proximity to our goal. "Everyone arm yourselves. The Engine is close."
I didn't wait to see if they followed. We ran through the graveyard of ships, dodging between hulls and broken masts. Above us, the Assembly barges spread out in search formation, beams of harsh white light cutting through the darkness.
"This way!" I called, following the way-finder’s pull. The corrupted magic inside me was a constant burn now, reacting to both the Assembly's violation and the proximity of the Engine. I could feel it becoming stronger, harder to control.
We'd been running for perhaps five too-long minutes when I heard Juno stumble behind me. I turned to see her falter, one hand clutching at her chest as she gasped for air.
“Scavenger?” I was at her side in an instant, my heart pounding with fear I couldn't afford to show.
Our eyes met, and what I saw there chilled me to the bone.
Pain, yes, but also something else. There was a strange, silver luminescence beginning to gather at the edges of her irises that I initially first mistook for tears.
"Something's wrong…" she gasped, her voice strained, as if she couldn't quite get enough breath in. "I feel... too heavy. My heart—it's beating too fast." Her hands were shaking, and she swayed on her feet.
Fear like I'd never known seized me. Before she could say more, her legs gave out. I caught her, sweeping her into my arms, pressing her against my chest. She felt like she was burning up, her skin feverish against mine.
Her body felt too light, too fragile in a way I'd never associated with Juno.
As I held her against my chest, fear strangled me, constricting my throat until I could barely breathe.
This woman who had survived the Gallery's horrors, who had faced down krell and Assembly guards without flinching, now lay pale and trembling in my arms.
My memory soared back to the first time I saw her, walking into that dingy tavern in Arkanis. I'd been waiting for hours, nursing the same drink, beginning to think Gideon Pike had failed me. Then the door swung open, and she'd stepped inside.
Her pearl-white hair had caught the flickering crystal light, glowing like a beacon in that smoke-filled room.
When her pale gray eyes met mine, something in my chest had seized.
For one ridiculous moment, I'd forgotten how to breathe entirely.
She'd been dressed simply—practical clothes for a practical woman—yet my cock had throbbed until the moment I stormed out of the pub and back to my ship.
I'd known immediately she was the one I needed. The one who could help me find the Engine. What I hadn't expected was how she would burrow under my skin, into my thoughts, my dreams. I'd never seen a more striking woman in my thirty-eight years of existence, and I doubted I ever would again.
I thought back to that night in the dead realm. Gods, I'd been aching for it for weeks, lying in my quarters at night, imagining the taste of her skin, wondering what she would feel like writhing beneath me. The need had nearly driven me mad with want.
I'd lost control that night, pinning her against the wall, my mouth claiming hers with a hunger I couldn't disguise as anything other than what it was.
The taste of her had been everything I'd imagined and more.
Sweet and fierce and utterly fucking addictive.
I hadn't slept, unable to keep myself from going to her quarters just to look into her eyes again, to feel the thrumming of her heart when I was near.
Now that heart beat against my palm, much too hard and much too fast as I carried her through the wing ship graveyard. If she died here, I would follow her where she went.
"What's happening to her?" Kora demanded, running alongside me.
"The engine is calling to her!"
Juno convulsed in my arms, her back arching as if in agony.
"Stay with us… Stay with me," I gritted through clenched teeth, unsure if she could even hear me. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare leave me…”
I wasn’t sure what was left of my soul could handle that. In fact, I knew it couldn’t.