Chapter 15
We sailed for two weeks through the darkest parts of the Gallery. Currents were more unpredictable, and the crew remained on high alert, rotating watches so someone was always monitoring our surroundings.
I spent most of my time at the bow, navigating. The First Anchor grew warm against my skin whenever we approached dangerous currents, allowing me to guide us safely through. By day fifteen, even Jask had stopped questioning my directions.
Kora stayed close, watching me with worried eyes. "You need to rest," she said, finding me still at my post. "You've barely slept."
"I can't," I admitted. "Every time I close my eyes, I feel it pulling at me. Like it wants something."
She took my hand, her fingers warm against my cold skin. "What you did with the barrier... that wasn't normal rift ability, was it?"
I shook my head.
"Are you scared?"
"Not of the power itself. More of what it means." I looked at her. "What if I can't control it? What if I hurt someone I care about?"
"I won't let that happen," she said firmly. "And I'm the boss, remember?"
I smiled. "You never let me forget it."
The next morning I felt it, a thinning in the Gallery's fabric, a portal was nearby. "There!" I pointed to a spot that, to anyone else, would look like empty darkness. "There's a portal there, but the realm is dead."
Cypher guided the ship toward it, his hands steady on the helm. "Everyone prepare for transition," he shouted. "Could be rough. This portal hasn't been used in years."
The transition wasn't just rough, it was violent. The ship shuddered and groaned, wood creaking ominously as we passed through. For a terrifying moment, I thought we might break apart, scattered through the void like the skiff I'd destroyed.
Then we were through, emerging into a sky the color of steel. Below us stretched a landscape that might once have been beautiful but was now empty. Vast plains of gray dust, broken only by the skeletal remains of what might have been forests. In the distance were massive mountain ranges.
"Welcome to a dead realm," Cypher murmured.
We found a place to moor near what had once been a city port. Only ruins remained now—crumbling stone structures, half-buried in dust. The air was breathable but thin, carrying a metallic tang that coated the tongue.
"What happened here?" Kora asked as we docked, leaning over the railing.
"It's just old," Vic said, coming to stand next to Kora. "The portal hasn't collapsed like Nytheris. The realm is just dead. Eventually it happens to all realms, depending on where their star is in its lifespan."
"Cheery," Knives muttered.
The realm was noticeably colder, but not to the point of freezing. But it was enough that whoever had lived here many centuries ago, was long gone and likely settled elsewhere.
Dinner was a quiet affair of dried rations and water that tasted faintly of metal despite our best efforts to purify it. Even Zoya and Knives' usual banter was subdued. Jask sat with his back against a wall while Kora hovered nearby.
I found myself sitting next to Cypher, our shoulders almost touching. Neither of us spoke, but the silence felt comfortable rather than awkward. Click curled in my lap, sleeping.
"We should be safe here," Cypher said, breaking the silence. "At least for a while."
I nodded, watching the strange, muted sunset paint the ruins in shades of purple and gray.
Over a week into our stay, I found myself keeping watch at the helm with Zoya. It was well past midnight, the strange constellations of this dead realm glittering overhead like scattered diamonds on black velvet. The ship creaked softly beneath us, settled on the dusty ground near the ruined port.
"You ever wonder what this place looked like before?" Zoya asked, pouring steaming tea from a battered metal pot into two chipped mugs. The scent of mint and something spicier rose with the steam.
I accepted the mug gratefully, wrapping my cold fingers around its warmth. "I keep trying to imagine people walking those streets, ships docking at that harbor."
"Depressing, isn't it?" She leaned against the railing, her dark eyes scanning the horizon. "Knowing every realm has an expiration date."
"Unless someone terraforms it," I said, thinking of Cypher's plans. "Brings it back to life."
Zoya gave me a sideways glance, a small smile playing at her lips. "Is that what you're planning to do? Help our illustrious captain breathe life back into a realm?"
I stared into my tea, watching ripples form as the ship settled. "I don't know what I'm planning anymore. Everything's happened so fast."
"That's the Gallery for you. Changes you before you even realize it's happening." She took a long sip of her tea. "Before I joined the crew, I was just another dockhand in Portsmith. Now look at me—fugitive, void-sailor, possible realm-builder." She chuckled softly. "Life's funny that way."
"Do you ever regret it? Joining the crew?"
"Not for a second." Her answer came without hesitation. "Found my purpose here. My people." Her eyes flicked to where Knives was sleeping below deck. "My person."
Footsteps behind us made us both turn. Cypher emerged from the shadows. His hair was tied back tonight, making him look a little less wild.
"Ladies," he said. "Mind if I join you?"
Zoya straightened immediately, offering him her mug.
"Take mine, Captain. I was just about to turn in.
" I shot her a look that clearly said 'traitor,' but she just winked at me before heading toward the hatch.
"Knives is probably missing me anyway," she called over her shoulder. "Sweet dreams, you two."
And then we were alone, Cypher and I, with nothing but dead silence between us. He settled into Zoya's abandoned spot, sipping from her mug as he gazed out at the ruined city.
"Can't sleep?" I asked, when the silence stretched too long.
"Too much on my mind." His eyes reflected the starlight when he turned to me. "What about you?"
"Same, I guess. This place makes me restless."
"It has potential, though." He gestured toward the vast emptiness. "The soil tests Vic ran show it could support vegetation with the right catalysts. The mountain ranges would create natural weather systems once we introduce moisture. We could build here."
"Is that what you want? To settle in this realm?"
He shrugged. "It's perfect, actually. The portal is dark, so it's hidden.
It's remote enough that Gideon and the Assembly won't find us easily.
Large enough to support a growing population.
And most importantly—" he traced a finger along the rim of his mug, "—it's untethered from any controlling government. True freedom."
"What was it like?" I asked. "Nytheris, before the collapse."
His expression softened with memory. "Beautiful.
Beyond anything you can imagine. Our cities were built into the mountains and forests, working with the natural landscape rather than against it.
Crystal spires that caught the light of three moons, gardens that spiraled up tower walls.
" He closed his eyes briefly. "And the people—scholars, artisans, explorers.
We valued knowledge above all else. Creation rather than conquest."
"It sounds like paradise."
"It wasn't perfect," he admitted. "We had our problems. Political factions, resource disputes. But we were thriving with every new generation. It’s all gone now."
I reached out impulsively, my fingers brushing his arm. "I'm sorry."
He covered my hand with his, the touch sending warmth up my arm despite the chill night air. "I want to recreate that. Not exactly as it was—that's impossible. But the spirit of it. A place where people can live without fear, where knowledge isn't hoarded by the powerful."
"A noble goal."
"What about you?" he asked, turning to face me fully. "What was your childhood like in the Prime Realm?"
I laughed softly. "Nothing so grand as crystal spires. Just a small shop in the merchant district. My father crafted anchors for the Assembly. Beautiful ones that could channel energy more efficiently than standard models."
"That's no small skill."
"He taught me everything—how to test a crystal's resonance, how to shape metal to enhance rather than restrict its power." I smiled at the memory. "He used to say that a good setting should be like a comfortable chair for the crystal to sit in, not a cage to trap it."
"Wise man." Cypher stood suddenly, setting his mug on the railing. He extended his arm toward me. "Would you like to take a walk with me?"
I glanced at the ruins stretching into darkness. "Out there? Is that safe?"
"Nothing's alive here anymore. Just memories. And us."
I hesitated, looking down at my tea. Walking alone with Cypher through a dead city in the middle of the night seemed unwise for several reasons—not least because of the way my pulse quickened at the thought.
"Come on, scavenger. The stars are clearer from the shore."
Against my better judgment, I took his arm. "Lead on, Your Highness."
We descended the gangplank and stepped onto the dusty ground. Without the ship's crystal lamps, the darkness was nearly absolute until my eyes adjusted, broken only by starlight that seemed impossibly bright in this realm's thin atmosphere.
Cypher guided me through the ruins of what had once been a port city. Crumbling stone structures loomed on either side, their purpose long forgotten. The silence was thick. No insects chirping, no distant animal calls, not even the whisper of wind. Just our footsteps.
"It's beautiful, in a melancholy way," I whispered. Cypher just nodded.
We reached what had once been a harbor. Now it was the edge of a vast frozen ocean, the water solid and still, stretching to the horizon. The ice glittered under starlight, reflecting constellations I'd never seen before.
"Look up," Cypher said.
I tilted my head back and gasped. Without the ship's lights interfering, the night sky was ablaze with stars. Not just pinpricks of light but swirls of cosmic dust and distant nebulae painting the darkness in shades of blue and purple.