26. Ryker
Ryker
The first round of communications comes not long after Raea leaves.
Draerr—the furthest planet in Ateria—has been breached. Just like Khyreth, Ateria’s moon was overtaken by that onyx mist and cloud cover so thick nothing could penetrate it. Now Draerr is shrouded too.
Whatever is happening, it’s spreading.
All focus shifts to Sector 12. Reports range from black clouds choking the skies to a thick, crawling mist swallowing entire streets. Thankfully, most of the planet had already been evacuated.
Within the hour, communication goes dark.
Our quadrants begin working with Treon’s to put together a reconnaissance mission—something to get eyes on Draerr and figure out what we’re dealing with. But before anything can be confirmed, Ateria itself goes silent.
No communication.
Their quadrants have stopped responding, and their Protos have been grounded.
I’m called to the command room as reports come in of another small energy surge in the sector outside the Oris Kingdom—smaller than before, but enough to keep everyone on edge.
Thankfully, there are no new reports of planets being overrun.
My mother sits calmly at my side while our commandants, guards, and generals argue across the room about how to protect what’s left of our system.
The only thing I can do right now is start evacuations.
Our three smaller planets go first. We won’t be able to do much with Saedn—it’s too large, too central—but the quadrants are already evaluating vulnerable populations, including women and children.
I don’t wait for the meeting to end. I send the orders immediately.
For now, evacuees will be spread across our remaining fourteen planets. It’s not ideal, but it’s something.
News comes in from Kyrr that Raea’s transport made it back safely. She’s inside the palace. At least that’s one thing I can set aside.
“When does the team leave for Draerr?” I ask, studying the wall of displays as reports stream in from the six kingdoms. Still no sign of any from Ateria.
Commandant Kavlyn, who oversees the Regils, turns to me. “One hour. They’re making their peace now.”
I nod and shift my focus to Treon’s Proto reports. They’ve already begun evacuating their two smallest outer planets.
I scrub a hand over the short beard along my jaw, still undecided if I’ll keep it.
I like it.
So did Raea.
“Keep me in the loop. I’d like to be informed when they leave.”
The commandant looks at me and nods. “Yes, Prince Anders.”
With that, I head out to find Cole. I’ve barely seen him since I’ve been home. He sticks to his wing with Linnea. I knock once on the large oak doors, and one of the servants answers. I’m brought to their private dining space, where they’re both finishing up dinner.
“Brother,” Cole says, rising to hug me with a single pat on the shoulder. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
I take the seat at the head of the table. Beside me, Cole’s eyes narrow, and I see the familiar flicker of rebellion he used to survive our father’s 'lessons.' While I tried to earn the man’s approval by breaking myself, Cole survived by refusing to care at all.
We are both broken in the same shape, just from different angles of the same abusive shadow.
“The war is here.” My voice is steady, but inside, I'm screaming at him to see that the monster is gone—we don't have to keep fighting each other.
I relay all the information I’ve learned about Ateria, about Draerr, about the fact that we’ve been watching Khyreth—Ateria’s seventh moon—for the past month. There’s been no change on Khyreth, and it was beginning to feel irrelevant, until today.
“So what do you need me for?” he asks, leaning back in his chair like he could give two shits about any of this.
I work the muscles of my jaw, drawing in a deep breath.
“Well, since Intel will be processing every second of what happens on Draerr, I thought you’d like to assist.” I stand.
“But of course I see that you can’t be bothered.
Who cares about the fate of our system?” I shrug my hands into my pockets, strolling out of the room only to pause and glance back at him, still unmoved.
“I suggest you take the time to think about the role you’d like to play in the coming war. It will be here sooner than you think.”
Before I can make it back to the command center, my mother finds me.
“Son, walk with me.” She looks exhausted. She’s been using her powers all day to keep the room at peace.
I follow her into my father’s personal office.
It still smells like him—charcoal and the sharp, tangy scent of lemon oil.
To the kingdom, this was the room where a hero worked.
To me, it was where he spent years perfecting the art of making me feel small.
Every time I stood before that desk, his words were a scalpel, peeling away my confidence until I felt like nothing more than a disappointment in a crown.
Even now, with him gone, my body still braces for a lecture that will never come.
“I want to tell you a story,” my mother starts.
“When I was a little girl, my father, King Larsson, had to make a choice. There was an uprising between a few of our planets. Mostly over trade agreements and jobs. The details don’t matter.
” She spins, running her hand along my father’s desk.
“He could step in, deal with it himself, or let them work things out. The Dukes of both planets were prideful. If my father had stepped in, it would have undermined the power and responsibility given to them. If he didn’t, well, it risked getting ugly.
People were refusing to work, others were starving and needing work.
My father was put in a difficult situation.
He decided it was time to step in. On the night before he sent in the Terra quadrants, my mother went into labor. ”
She finally sits in a chair in front of my father’s desk. She has every right to sit behind it, yet she doesn’t.
“My father decided to stay with my mother. Instead of going, he chose what was ultimately best for his family, and as he would learn, the kingdom. My sister, Anabella, was born sleeping. Had my father gone, my mother would have been left alone with her grief. My father would have been called home anyway, and it would have been a messy situation.”
“I don’t understand.” It comes out like a question.
“You cannot protect every planet from a throne in Malaya, Anders,” my mother says. “You have to choose where you are needed most.”
She’s quiet, recalling something as she gazes out the window at the clouds moving in, pregnant with rain.
“My father learned that some tragedies happen regardless of where the King stands. But Raea is the key to everything. If you aren't with her when the shadows fall, nothing else we do matters. I will let you know if you’re needed. In the meantime, we have a Ceremony and wedding to plan.”
“Mother.” I sigh. “The Ceremony is here. We should call her back.”
She chuckles. “No. I spoke with Amaya. Raea has a few last-minute fittings. Now, go. I have lots to plan.”
I nod and squeeze the back of the chair I'm hovering over. I wish my father were here to protect our kingdom. She’s right, though. Even if I stayed, I wouldn’t know what to do. The answers lie with my fiancée.
“You will make a great husband and king. I believe in you.”
My heart swells with love for my mother.
I feel like a little boy again, heading to Drithm for the first time.
She walked me to the entrance and held me as I attempted not to cry, putting on a brave face.
She reassured me I would have so much fun and make new friends.
She told me to be brave and kind. She’s always been my biggest supporter.
“I’ll make you proud,” I say.
“Anders, sweetheart, you already do.”
I sit in silence, watching the live-feed from the recon team approach Draerr. We decided after much deliberation with Treon that they’d send an identical team to Khyreth. The screen to the right shows Treon’s team still advancing.
“Ready on your go,” their leader says into his com.
Commandant Kavlyn looks to me.
I nod subtly and pray to the gods that we aren't making a big mistake by sending them in.
This is unprecedented. Another kingdom's quadrants are not to enter another kingdom's airspace without approval from the crown. Since King Alexi isn’t responding, we’ve been given no choice.
Once we get more information on Draerr and Khyreth, there are talks about a mission to Chyros to see if the royal family is still alive or what the hell is going on.
I force air into my lungs as I watch the transport begin its descent into Draerr’s atmosphere. The whole room is silent as the screen grows darker, glitching.
The commandant nods to the analyst sitting at the coms board. “Alpha team, do you copy?”
We can still see their screen, but it’s growing darker by the second.
“What is that?” someone says somewhere in the room.
The display isn't just dark—it’s alive. Something in the black mist is moving—swirling with predatory intent.
The feed glitches, a high-pitched whine echoing through the command center, and then—nothing.
The screen bleeds to black. 'Communication Ended' flashes in a cold, mocking red.
Twenty souls vanish, and we never even see the face of what takes them.
I release a short breath and look to the second screen for the team now arriving at Khyreth. I nod, and they enter the moon’s thin atmosphere. Just like with the Alpha team, the screen grows increasingly dark.
“Hold them,” I say, standing. I swallow and exhale. “Tell them to stay in the lower atmosphere. I want them to try running radar scans first, before we lose communication.”
The commandant nods and relays their new orders. Meanwhile, the comms team for Alpha is still trying to regain a connection. We all wait with bated breath for what feels like an eternity.
Eventually, the first scans come in. They’re dark, but among the pitch-black atmosphere, we can make out patterns.