The wind howled above the world.
Ael stood on the deck of a skyship—The Dawnpiercer—a sleek vessel of rune-carved wood and thunder-forged iron. Its sails shimmered with condensed magic, catching winds that didn't exist on the earth below. They soared above the clouds now, higher than any bird could fly, where the air was thin and electric.
Far ahead, nestled in the embrace of a thunderstorm, was their destination:
Skymire—the floating citadel of storms.
Lightning crackled around the stone spires of the city. Huge chains connected floating islands to a central fortress suspended on a storm core, an ancient relic from the Age of Gods. Skymire did not welcome visitors. No envoy returned twice.
Elric gripped the rail beside Ael. "Let me guess—the shard's in there?"
Ael nodded once. "Held by someone who never forgot me."
Lyra glanced at him. "Another old enemy?"
Ael didn't answer at first.
Then, quietly, he said, "No. He was once my brother."
—
The gates of Skymire opened only after The Dawnpiercer broadcasted an ancient royal seal—one Ael forged himself long ago during the first unification of the sky tribes.
Guards clad in silver armor and winged helms met them on the landing spire. They bowed—not to Ael—but to Lyra, whom they mistook as a stormbound emissary.
Only one recognized him.
The moment he removed his hood, the wind stopped.
"You."
The voice came from a man in black-and-silver robes. Tall, elegant, and sharp as a sword's edge. His eyes crackled with lightning—literal arcs of storm magic danced along his fingers.
He descended the stairs slowly.
Ael didn't flinch.
"Aeryn Valis." Ael spoke the name as if it carried weight. It did.
Aeryn—the last Sky Prince, bearer of the storm shard, and once, Ael's closest confidant.
Until Ael betrayed him.
—
They were brought into the central citadel under heavy watch. The halls of Skymire buzzed with static energy. Clouds drifted through open corridors. Arcane turbines hummed beneath crystal floors. Thunder echoed in the distance.
Ael was silent as Aeryn led them to a great hall where the storm shard floated between six steel rods, spinning slowly with glowing intensity. Each pulse sent a tremor through the walls.
"This," Aeryn said, "is what you came to steal. Again."
"I didn't come to steal," Ael replied. "I came to reclaim what I left in your care."
Aeryn's voice darkened. "You left me. You left your oath. You left Skymire to burn when the earth kings turned against us. And when I asked you to stay…"
Ael looked up. "I couldn't feel anything back then."
"And now?" Aeryn stepped forward, eyes glowing. "Do you feel regret?"
Ael didn't speak.
That silence stung more than any blade.
—
Aeryn raised his hand, and the storm shard blazed with power.
"You want it? Prove that you've changed. You once challenged me for leadership. Do it again. Sky-duel. No titles. No allies. Just you… and me."
Elric stepped forward. "He doesn't need to prove—"
Ael stopped him with a glance.
"No," he said softly. "He's right. I walked away. I need to face what I left behind."
Lyra frowned. "You could die."
"Then I'll die trying to earn back the trust I destroyed."
—
The duel took place on the Storm Disc, a massive floating platform surrounded by lightning pillars. Below was the open sky. No safety nets. No spells to catch a fall.
Only honor.
Only pain.
Ael faced Aeryn with nothing but his blade and his will.
The duel was brutal.
Aeryn's magic bent the wind, hurled bolts of lightning, cracked the sky itself. Ael could barely keep up, dodging thunderstrikes and retaliating with swift, grounded blows. He didn't use magic. He didn't use tricks.
He fought as he was.
Scarred. Flawed. Human.
And slowly, the storm began to yield.
—
Ael didn't win by strength.
He won by standing.
Even when Aeryn struck him down, even when blood poured from his mouth, he rose again.
Again.
And again.
Until Aeryn stood trembling, staff at his side, breath ragged.
"Why?" he shouted. "Why keep standing?"
Ael met his gaze through the haze of pain.
"Because I remember now."
He stepped closer.
"I remember what it felt like to be trusted. To be followed. And how much I broke when I lost it."
He lowered his blade.
"I'm not here to conquer. I'm here… to heal."
—
Aeryn stared at him.
Then, slowly… the storm shard drifted between them.
It pulsed once.
And flowed into Ael's chest.
The shard of trust.
The clouds broke.
Sunlight bathed Skymire for the first time in years.
—
That night, as they prepared to depart, Aeryn met Ael in the hangar.
"Three shards remain," he said.
Ael nodded. "One is in the frozen north. One in the demon lands. The last…"
He looked up at the stars.
"The last is inside me. Buried so deep even I can't reach it yet."
Aeryn placed a hand on his shoulder. "Then keep walking. One step at a time."