My name is Aurel Soren Kaelis.
Before everything fell apart, that name still meant protection.
House Kaelis did not rule planets. We did not command imperial fleets, nor did we dictate laws for billions scattered among the stars. We wore no crowns and never sat upon the Imperial Throne.
And yet, we were indispensable.
While other houses controlled armies, economies, or political influence, ours guarded something far more fragile — the space between worlds. Jump routes. Portal stabilization. The correction of gravitational anomalies. Wherever space became unstable, dangerous, or unpredictable, it was House Kaelis that intervened.
Without us, the Empire would fracture.
Perhaps that was why we were respected.
Perhaps that was why we were feared.
That morning, I awoke to the familiar sound of the castle's runes realigning themselves. A low, nearly imperceptible hum passed through the air — a sign that routine portals were active and commercial routes were being adjusted.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
I opened my eyes slowly, staring at the high ceiling of my chamber, where ancient family symbols were carved directly into pale stone. Containment runes. Anchoring runes. Safe-return glyphs. I had seen them since childhood.
I had never really thought about them.
Maybe I should have.
I rose without hurry, wrapped in the comfortable silence of the Kaelis residence. The castle was not extravagant like the imperial palaces, but it carried an ancient solidity. Every wall felt as though it had been built to endure centuries.
I dressed in the house's simple uniform — a dark tunic, unadorned — and stepped into the corridor.
Seris was probably already awake.
She always was. Ever since we were children. While I needed a few minutes to convince myself to leave my bed, she simply opened her eyes ready to face the world.
Ryn, on the other hand—
I smiled to myself.
Ryn despised mornings.
I descended the central stairs and heard voices drifting from the dining hall. The scent of warm bread and herbal infusion filled the air, carrying with it a strangely reassuring sense of calm.
My mother sat at the table, scrolling through a floating data panel, her expression focused. My father stood near the window, gazing at the planet's sky — a clear blue, crossed by nearly invisible lines of spatial traffic.
"You slept little," he said, without turning.
"I slept enough," I replied, approaching the table.
My mother lifted her gaze, studying me as she always did.
"Your ears?" she asked.
"No bleeding," I answered automatically.
She nodded, satisfied.
Questions like that were common in our household. Teleportation was not merely a skill to us — it was responsibility. Every use demanded control, calculation, and respect for the body's limits.
"Where are the twins?" I asked.
"Ryn is still wrestling with his own consciousness," my mother said, allowing herself a small smile. "Seris went to the training courtyard."
That came as no surprise.
I took a slice of bread and passed through the side door into the inner courtyard. The air was cool, laced with the subtle energy of stabilization runes embedded throughout the stone floor.
Seris was already there.
She moved with precision, executing a short sequence of spatial jumps, reappearing only a few meters from her starting point each time. Her movements were clean. Controlled. No wasted energy.
"You're improving," I said as I approached.
She stopped, breathing steadily, and glanced at me sideways.
"You say that every time."
"Because it's true every time."
She scoffed and crossed her arms.
"Father said you're accompanying the next external route inspection."
"He did," I confirmed.
"So you'll be gone for a few days."
"Maybe."
She looked away for a moment, pretending indifference.
"Be careful."
I nodded.
Some things didn't need to be said between us.
The sound of hurried footsteps broke the silence.
"AUREL!"
Ryn burst into the courtyard, his hair completely disheveled, tunic half-adjusted, and his expression one of absolute indignation.
"You let me sleep too long again!"
"You let yourself sleep too long," I replied.
"Familial betrayal," he muttered, moving closer to Seris. "Was she involved?"
"Always," she answered without hesitation.
Ryn sighed dramatically and dropped to the ground, leaning his back against one of the runic columns.
"One day," he declared, "when I'm important, I'll sleep as long as I want."
"You already are," I said, without thinking.
He looked up at me, startled.
"I am?"
"You are," I confirmed. "To me."
Seris turned away, pretending not to hear.
In that moment, everything felt… normal.
House Kaelis was at peace.
Our family was whole.
The world still made sense.
If I had known that this would be the last morning any of that remained true, perhaps I would have stopped right there. Perhaps I would have held onto that moment more carefully.
But time does not warn before it destroys something.
It simply moves forward.
And that morning, while the sun still shone over the Kaelis castle, I had no idea we were already living the final hours of our former lives.