The Angel continued through the darkness of space. Behind them, the planet had become little more than a distant memory, its remains swallowed by the vastness of the universe. No one aboard the ship spoke much about it anymore. There was nothing left to say. They had watched their home die, watched their king fall and watched the place where generations of Arcadians had lived disappear beneath a storm of fire. For the survivors, silence had become easier than remembering.
Renku stood on the bridge beside Ezekiel, staring through the main viewing window. The stars stretched endlessly ahead of them, but he barely noticed them anymore. His mind remained focused on the same question that had occupied him since they escaped.
Where could they go?
They couldn't return to the Angelic territories. The celebration surrounding Arcadia's destruction had already made it clear that the Angelics would not welcome thousands of Arcadian refugees into their lands. Even if they did, Renku couldn't bring them somewhere they would always have to look over their shoulders. They needed somewhere untouched by the war, somewhere far enough from the Angelics and the Demons.
Ezekiel looked over the ship's instruments, his fingers moving across the controls as he searched through the surrounding systems. The process had become almost routine. Scan a planet, check its atmosphere and check for signs of civilization. Move on if anything looked dangerous or already claimed. They had been doing it for hours and every failed scan made the silence aboard the ship heavier. Then one of the scanners began to beep.
Ezekiel leaned forward. "Hold on."
Renku turned toward him. "What is it?"
"I've got something," he replied.
The bridge became slightly more alert. Ezekiel expanded the scan across the display, bringing up information about a nearby planet. Its atmosphere was breathable, the temperature was stable and there were large bodies of water, extensive landmasses and enough natural resources to support life.
Renku stepped closer. "Any signs of civilization?"
Ezekiel shook his head. "Nothing."
"Nothing?" questioned Renku.
"No cities. No structures. No communication signals. I'm not detecting any artificial energy signatures either." He looked through the information again, making sure he hadn't missed anything. "It doesn't look like anyone has colonized it."
Renku stared at the planet on the screen. After everything they had been through, the idea almost seemed too good to be true. "Can you confirm the atmosphere?"
"Already did. It's breathable!" Ezekiel answered.
"Food source?" asked Renku.
"There appears to be plenty of plant life. Water too. We won't know exactly what we're dealing with until someone gets down there," answered Ezekiel, hope within his tone.
Renku nodded. "I'll go."
Ezekiel immediately looked at him. "You're going alone?"
"I need to know what we're putting these people on before we land the ships," Renku answered with no hesitation.
"We could send a drone," Ezekiel suggested.
Renku shook his head. "A drone can tell us what's on the surface. It can't tell us whether the place feels safe."
Ezekiel gave him a tired look. "You're serious."
Renku smiled faintly. "When have I ever not been?"
Ezekiel sighed and began preparing the descent coordinates. "Fine. I'll keep the ship in orbit until you give the word."
Renku turned toward the bridge doors, but before leaving he glanced back at the planet. "Let's hope this is the one."
A short time later, Renku left the Angel and flew toward the planet below. Blue Cosmic Energy surrounded his body as he descended through the atmosphere, the clouds parting around him as he dropped toward the surface. The planet opened beneath him.
Vast forests stretched across the land, broken by rivers that wound through the trees and disappeared toward the horizon. Mountains rose in the distance, their peaks catching the sunlight, while several enormous lakes reflected the sky. Renku slowed down and looked around, searching for any sign that someone had already claimed the world. There was nothing.
No cities, no roads, not even an old structure hidden among the forests. Renku lowered himself toward a large clearing beside a river and landed softly on the grass. Renku stood there for a good few seconds taking in everything. The planet was quiet, but not in the way Arcadia had been after the invasion. There was life everywhere. Birds sung deep in the forest and Renku caught movement between the trees as unfamiliar animals watched him before disappearing into the vegetation. A light breeze moved through the grass, carrying the smell of fresh water and plants.
Renku looked around. "This might actually work."
He walked toward the river and crouched beside the water. It was clear enough to see the stones beneath the surface. He checked it with the equipment on his wrist and waited for the results. Safe. He filled a small container and continued exploring.
There were trees covered in unfamiliar fruit, several of which his equipment identified as edible. Fish moved beneath the surface of the river and there were plenty of other plants growing throughout the area that could provide food. The wildlife seemed healthy and there were no signs of anything particularly dangerous nearby. Renku continued farther into the valley until he reached a small hill overlooking the surrounding land.
He stopped at the top and looked out. The planet seemed to stretch forever. Forest and open plains covered the surface while rivers flowed naturally. Nothing had been built here and nobody had claimed it. There were no armies, no kingdoms and no signs of another civilization waiting for them. Renku hadn't realized how badly he needed to see something like this.
Since leaving Arcadia, every decision had been about where they could survive next. There had been no time to think about anything beyond getting the survivors somewhere safe. Now, standing there and looking across the untouched land, he finally allowed himself to think about what could come after that. They could build here. It wouldn't be Arcadia as nothing could replace what they had lost. But maybe they didn't need to replace it. Maybe they could make something new.
Renku touched the communicator at his ear. "Ezekiel."
A few seconds passed before Ezekiel answered. "Go ahead."
"You can bring the ships down," answered Renku.
"You're sure?" questioned Ezekiel.
Renku looked across the valley again. "Yeah. I've checked the area. There's plenty of food and water, and I haven't found any signs of civilization."
"Anything dangerous?" asked Ezekiel.
"Just peace," Renku answered.
Ezekiel paused before replying. "That's probably the most reassuring thing you've said all day."
Renku smiled. "Get everyone down here."
The Angel soon appeared above the clouds, followed by the other transport. Renku watched as both ships descended toward the clearing. Their engines stirred the grass and sent clouds of dust through the air as they landed a short distance from where he stood. Once the engines shut down, the doors opened. The survivors slowly began making their way outside.
Some looked around cautiously. Others simply stood there, taking in the unfamiliar landscape. After everything they had been through, it was difficult for them to understand that nobody was coming to attack them. There was no battle waiting for them. No evacuation order. No enemy fleet appearing on the horizon. Just a quiet planet.
Renku watched as the survivors spread out across the clearing. Some stayed close to their families while others wandered a little farther, looking at the trees and the river as if they were trying to imagine themselves living here. There was still a lot they needed to figure out and Renku knew the next few days wouldn't be easy. They needed shelter, food stores, a way to organize everyone and eventually a way to defend the settlement if they were ever found. But none of that had to be solved today. For now, they had somewhere to stay.
The Angelic Capital had spent the entire day celebrating. Music could be heard from almost every district of the city. Musicians performed in the streets while people danced beneath banners bearing the symbol of the Angelics. Tables had been dragged outside restaurants and homes. Food and drinks covered the tables from edge to edge. Soldiers gathered with friends and families to celebrate what they believed was one of the greatest victories in their history.
Fireworks occasionally erupted above the buildings, filling the night sky with brilliant flashes of light as crowds cheered below. Everywhere people went, they heard the same thing.
Arcadia had fallen.
The news had spread quickly about Arcadia. The Angelics had embraced the news without hesitation. For them, the threat that had existed for generations was finally gone. They spoke about the future with confidence, congratulating their leaders and praising the soldiers who had supposedly helped bring about the victory. Few of them seemed interested in what had actually happened on Arcadia. Fewer still seemed to care about the people who had died there.
A lone figure moved through the celebration. He wore a long white cloak with a hood pulled over his head, hiding most of his face from view. He walked at an ordinary pace, neither rushing nor stopping to watch the festivities around him. People brushed past him without giving him much thought. A few glanced at him before returning to their conversations, while others were too busy celebrating to notice him at all.
The streets were filled with laughter, music and drunken shouting. Yet he walked through the middle of it all without making a sound. He never looked toward the musicians. He never acknowledged the people around him. He simply continued toward the center of the capital, where the Council Hall stood above the surrounding buildings. As he approached the entrance, two guards stood on either side of the doors. One of them noticed the hooded man and stepped forward.
"Council business?" One guard asked.
The man kept walking, ignoring the guard as if he was not worth even a glance.
The guard moved in front of him. "I'm talking to you."
The hood slowly turned toward him. The guard saw nothing beneath the hood. It was like there was no face at all, just darkness. He opened his mouth to speak again, but stopped when he felt something wet and cold move across his fingers. He looked down to see the skin on his hand was beginning to disappear. At first, it was only a few flakes, almost like ash being carried away by the wind. The guard stared at his hand in confusion before the flesh around his fingers began crumbling faster. Red dust slipped from his palm and scattered onto the floor.
His eyes widened in terror. "What is happening?"
The red decay reached his wrist. He tried to grab his arm with his other hand, but his fingers were already breaking apart. The process moved up his arm with horrifying speed, consuming flesh, muscle and bone without leaving so much as a wound behind. The guard tried to scream, but the sound never fully escaped his throat. His body collapsed into a cloud of red dust. For a split second, the particles hung in the air before they disappeared. The other guard stood frozen.
He stared at the empty space where his partner had been, unable to understand what he had just witnessed. His hand slowly moved toward his weapon. The hooded man looked at him which caused the guard to stop. Whatever he saw beneath that hood was enough to make his hand fall away from his weapon. The man walked past him and entered the Council Hall. The guard didn't try to stop him. He knew that whatever this entity was, he would only meet death if he tried to stop it.
Inside, the building was strangely quiet compared to the streets outside. The celebration could still be heard through the walls, distant music and cheering filtering into the corridors. The hooded man walked toward the elevators without saying a word. He pressed the button and the doors opened. He stepped inside. As the doors closed, the celebration disappeared behind them. The elevator began moving upward.
The man stood alone in the corner, his hands hidden beneath the white cloak. He didn't move nor did he look at the floor. He simply waited as the elevator stopped on the second floor. The doors opened, and two council members stepped inside while laughing about the celebration below.
"I can't remember the last time the capital looked like this," one of them said.
"After Arcadia, people needed something to celebrate," the other replied. "Tonight, they finally have it."
They noticed the hooded man standing in the corner.
One of them smiled. "Enjoying the celebration?"
The man said nothing.
The councilor laughed. "Come on. Lighten up. This is a great time for the Angelics."
Once again his words were met with a strange silence as the two council members exchanged a glance.
"Perhaps he's had too much to drink," one of them said.
The elevator continued upward, passing the twentieth floor and then the thirtieth. With only thirty more levels to go before they reached the Council Chamber the hooded man finally moved.
"I was beginning to think you were either asleep or dead," One of them joked.
Slowly, the hooded man lifted his head. "Your time has come."
The words were spoken so quietly that the council members almost thought they had imagined them.
One of them frowned. "What did you say?"
One of the council members suddenly grabbed his chest.
His face twisted in confusion. "What...?"
He stumbled backward against the elevator wall. His breathing became shallow as he pressed his hand against his chest, trying to understand the pain spreading through his body.
"Haha, funny joke." The other council member turned toward him. "Cut it out, this isn't funny anymore."
The first councilor looked down to see a faint red glow had appeared around the hooded man's hand. His hand was covered by a black glove as red energy slowly curled between his fingers. The councilor's eyes widened as he looked up to see two red eyes starring back at him from beneath the hood. There was no anger in them or hatred.
That was what frightened him most. The man looked almost bored. The councilor tried to speak, but the pain suddenly became unbearable. He dropped to his knees as the red energy spread through his body. His skin began cracking, not like a wound, but like his entire body was losing whatever was holding it together. The other council member backed away.
"What are you?" He whispered.
The hooded man said nothing as the first councilor's body began to crumble. His clothes fell to the floor as his body turned to red dust, the particles spilling across the elevator floor before vanishing into nothing. The second councilor stared in horror, pressed against the wall with nowhere left to go. He looked toward the elevator doors, but they were still closed. He looked back at the hooded man to see the red eyes were still watching him.
"No..."
His body began to break apart and within seconds, he was gone too. silence filled the elevator once again. Only the faint sound of the machinery remained as it continued carrying the hooded man toward the upper floors. He looked down at the empty floor where the two council members had stood. Not a trace of them remained. The doors opened and the hooded man stepped out. Behind him, the elevator doors closed again, hiding what had happened inside.
Meanwhile, Daeron stepped out of the Angel and looked across the clearing toward the other transport. After everything that had happened since leaving Arcadia, he had spent most of the journey sitting quietly with his thoughts. He knew the others were struggling as well, but he had never allowed himself mourn his losses. His father was gone, Vilor was gone and Arcadia was nothing more than a memory now. He had been so focused on what will be next and how he could save his people.
However, there was still one thing he had held onto throughout the entire journey. His mother was alive. He had been told she had made it onto one of the transports before the planet was destroyed and that thought had been enough to keep him going. Whatever else had happened, at least he would still have his mother. He would have someone who could relate to his pain and understood the weight of the crown.
Daeron made his way toward the transport as the doors opened and the survivors began stepping outside. At first, he expected to see relief on their faces now that they had finally reached a safe place, but that wasn't what he found. The people coming down the ramp were quiet, their heads lowered as they walked. Some were holding onto their families while others looked as though they had barely slept since leaving Arcadia.
A few noticed Daeron standing nearby and immediately looked away. One woman stopped when she saw him, her eyes filling with tears before she quickly lowered her head and continued walking. Daeron slowed down. Something wasn't right.
He looked toward the transport, waiting for his mother to appear among the others. More people came down the ramp, but Helena was nowhere among them. He glanced around the clearing before looking back at the ship, trying to convince himself that she must still be inside helping someone. There had to be a reason for this.
He approached one of the survivors and asked, "Where's my mother?"
The man looked at him but couldn't answer.
Daeron frowned and asked again, this time with more urgency. "Where is she?"
The man finally lowered his head and quietly said, "I'm sorry, Prince Daeron."
Daeron stared at him, confused by the words. "Sorry for what?"
The man didn't answer. He simply stepped aside and Daeron noticed another figure coming down the ramp. A soldier was carrying someone in his arms. Daeron stopped starring for a few seconds. He couldn't understand what he was looking at. The body was covered, but something about the way the soldier carried it made Daeron's stomach tighten. He looked at the soldier's face and immediately saw the grief there. The soldier slowly approached him, but Daeron shook his head before the man could say anything.
"No," he whispered. "Where is my mother?"
The soldier stopped in front of him, his expression becoming harder to maintain as he looked at the young prince.
"She fought Valak," he finally said. "She fought him to save the doctor."
Daeron stared at him without responding. His mind and heart were both racing. At first he thought maybe this was a dream, a nightmare and that he had fallen asleep on the transport. His heart though was telling him something entirely different.
The soldier swallowed before continuing. "She was a true queen to the end."
Daeron's eyes moved toward the body in the soldier's arms. Everything inside him seemed to stop. His knees gave out beneath him and he fell to the ground. The soldier quickly lowered Helena's body beside him, but Daeron barely noticed. He stared ahead as tears began running down his face. He had spent the entire journey believing that at least one part of his family had survived. His father was gone. His brother was gone. His kingdom was gone. But his mother had been alive and that had been enough to make him believe that perhaps he wasn't completely alone.
Now she was gone too. Daeron lowered his head and covered his face with his hands. He tried to hold himself together, but the grief he had been keeping inside since Arcadia finally broke through. A sob escaped him, followed by another and soon he could no longer stop himself. He wasn't thinking about being a prince anymore. He wasn't thinking about his father's final words or the responsibility that had been placed on him. He wasn't thinking about rebuilding Arcadia or becoming the Great King his father had wanted him to be.
He was just a son who had lost his mother.
One of the older women among the survivors eventually walked over and knelt beside him. She had lost people too and she knew there was nothing she could say that would make his pain disappear. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him and held him. Daeron didn't resist. He leaned against her, still crying, while more of the survivors slowly gathered around them. Some placed their hands on his shoulders, while others embraced one another. Before long, a large group had formed around their prince, not because they knew what to say, but because none of them wanted him to go through it alone.
Renku and Ezekiel stood a short distance away, watching the scene unfold. Ezekiel looked toward Daeron and shook his head.
"A kid to lose everything that way..." Ezekiel said.
Renku remained quiet for a moment before looking at the people gathered around the young prince.
"Not everything," he said. "They're still here."
Ezekiel followed his gaze and understood what he meant. Daeron had lost his kingdom, his family and nearly everything he had ever known. But the people of Arcadia were still standing around him. They had lost their homes as well and yet they had chosen to stay together.
Eventually, Renku walked over and knelt beside Daeron. He didn't immediately say anything. Daeron continued to stare at the ground, his face still wet with tears.
After a while, he looked up at Renku and spoke in a broken voice. "She was supposed to be here."
Renku nodded. "I know."
Daeron shook his head as tears began forming again. "She was supposed to be here. My father... Vilor... I knew they were gone, but I thought I still had her."
Renku placed a hand on his shoulder and said quietly, "You don't have to be strong right now."
Daeron looked away. "My father told me to become the Great King."
Renku looked at him for a moment before answering, "You will."
Daeron gave a bitter laugh through his tears. "I don't even have a kingdom."
Renku glanced toward the survivors surrounding them. "Your wrong."
Daeron looked at him with a confused look before Renku pointed towards the survivors.
"That's your kingdom there," Renku stated.
Daeron looked at them and for the first time he seemed to really see them. They were grieving just as he was, but they were still here. They were the people his father had spent his life protecting, and now they were looking to him. Just as his father once told him, it is the people who are the kingdom, not the buildings.
The survivors prepared a funeral fire for Helena as the sun began to fall beyond the horizon. Daeron stood beside Renku and watched the flames slowly grow, unable to look away. For a long time he said nothing. His mother had always been there when he was growing up, whether it was comforting him after an argument with his father or helping him understand the responsibilities that came with being a prince. However, above all that she was simply there when he needed someone to talk to. He had never seriously considered a world where she wasn't there. Even after Arcadia fell, he had convinced himself that seeing her again would somehow make everything feel a little less broken. Daeron wiped his face and looked into the fire.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do without you," he said quietly. His voice trembled as he continued. "I don't know how I'm supposed to do any of this."
Renku stood beside him without interrupting. Daeron took a breath and looked down at the flames.
"Father wanted me to become a king. I don't even know if I can be the person he wanted me to be." He paused, struggling to get the words out. "But I'll try."
Another tear rolled down his cheek. "I'll try, Mother." He stared at the fire for another few seconds before finally whispering, "Goodbye."
Renku remained beside him as the funeral continued, giving Daeron the space to grieve. Neither of them spoke for a while. The sounds of the survivors behind them had faded into the background, leaving only the crackling of the fire and the occasional movement of the wind through the trees. Then Renku suddenly felt something. He looked up.
Nothing had changed around them. The planet was still quiet, the stars beginning to appear overhead and the survivors were still gathered around the fire. Yet something felt wrong. He couldn't explain it and couldn't identify any source of energy nearby. There was no enemy ship, no attack and no disturbance that he could see. But the feeling was strong enough to make him stop.
A few moments later, far away in the Angelic Capital, Andreia suddenly stopped.
Zether noticed immediately. "What is it?"
Andreia looked around the room, her expression becoming serious. "I don't know."
Zether stood still as he felt it too. Neither of them could explain what had changed, but something had entered the capital. Something powerful enough that even they could feel its presence without being able to locate it.
Back on the new planet, Renku continued staring into the darkness. Whatever it was, he couldn't see it, but something had changed.
The doors to the High Council chamber opened slowly, drawing the attention of several councilors gathered around the central table. The room was still filled with the energy of celebration. Drinks had been poured, banners bearing the insignia of the Angelic territories hung from the walls and several members of the council were still discussing the fall of Arcadia as though they had just won the greatest victory in their history.
Gnoth stood at the center of the chamber, accepting congratulations from the others. His expression carried a satisfaction he had made little effort to hide. Arcadia had been their greatest political obstacle and now it was gone. The war had cost lives, but to the people gathered in this room, those deaths had become numbers in a victory report.
The hooded man stepped into the chamber. No one paid much attention to him at first. Gnoth continued speaking to the councilors around him until one of them noticed the stranger standing near the entrance. His smile faded slightly as he looked toward the hooded figure.
"Excuse me," the councilor said. "This chamber is restricted."
The hooded man stopped.
Gnoth finally turned toward him. His expression changed from mild curiosity to irritation. "Can we help you?"
The figure did not answer.
One of the councilors gave a dismissive laugh. "You must have taken a wrong turn. This is the High Council chamber. Ordinary citizens aren't permitted in here."
Another councilor gestured toward the doors. "You need to leave."
The hooded man slowly raised his head. Beneath the hood, his face remained hidden in darkness.
Gnoth frowned. "Did you hear him? Leave."
The room fell strangely quiet as the hooded man finally spoke.
"Debts are due."
Gnoth's expression hardened. "What did you say?"
The hooded man raised one hand as a faint crimson glow gathered around his black glove. With a small movement of his fingers, the enormous doors behind him swung shut. The sound echoed throughout the chamber.
Bang.
Every councilor turned toward the sealed doors. The celebration was over. Suddenly a red aura consumed the hooded man. All of the council members could feel an intense heat coming from the hooded figure. Then the hooded figure smiled.
End of Chapter 30