Vareth strode deeper into the ship’s dimly lit corridors, his heavy boots echoing faintly against the wooden floorboards. The air carried the scent of aged parchment, faint engine oil, and the lingering aroma of sea salt drifting through open portholes. Crew members and guests passed him by, each offering nods of respect or murmured greetings.


    “Captain,” a burly deckhand acknowledged with a tip of his hat.


    “Good evening, Captain Drassos,” a robed mage said, his fingertips glowing faintly with residual magic. Vareth returned each greeting with a simple nod or a brief flicker of his forked tongue, his golden eyes scanning the halls as he walked.


    His naval officer’s coat, lined with brass buttons, shifted slightly with his movements, the weight of his hidden flintlock guns pressing lightly against his sides. As he neared an open workshop space, he caught sight of a familiar sight—a group of four young girls, each no older than eleven, huddled over a scattered mess of metallic parts, wires, and glowing runes. The whirring sound of a small engine hummed in the air, accompanied by the occasional spark of magic-infused electricity.


    The girls were all dressed in mechanic’s jumpsuits, each uniquely tailored with pockets overflowing with tools, scraps of metal, and enchanted wrenches. Their sleeves were rolled up, revealing arms smudged with grease, and their eager hands worked tirelessly as they pieced together the frame of an automaton.


    Each girl had distinct features and a signature color. The first twin wore an indigo jumpsuit, she had short, fiery red hair tied into a messy bun, her sharp amber eyes glinting with focus. She was the most expressive of the twins, often humming while she worked.


    The second twin was dressed in deep emerald green, she had the same fiery red hair, but hers was cut in a straight bob. Her hazel eyes, filled with curiosity, darted between the blueprints and the mechanical components. She rarely spoke, but her hands moved with incredible precision.


    The third girl, unlike the twins had deep cerulean blue hair braided into thick loops. She wore a bright yellow jumpsuit, her electric blue eyes filled with mischief. She often argued with the others about adding “cooler” features to their inventions, like wings or laser cannons.


    But the fourth girl was unlike the others, she was not born into the crew but had been rescued from her captors by both Vareth and Solhawk years ago. Her long, dull brown hair was unevenly cut, and faint scars traced along her arms and neck.


    She wore a faded maroon jumpsuit, its colors dulled from years of wear. Around her neck hung a broken clan necklace, a reminder of a past she rarely spoke about.


    Her olive-green eyes, once filled with constant wariness, had softened over time, though they still carried a weight the others didn’t. Vareth’s brow furrowed slightly with curiosity as he slowed his pace. He observed how they worked together—one welding, another fitting gears, another sketching blueprints on the wooden floorboards, and the last adjusting the automaton’s inner core with a delicate touch.


    As he approached the workshop’s balcony, one of the twins caught sight of him. Her eyes widened in excitement, and she elbowed her sister.


    “Captain Vareth!” she gasped, her voice filled with delight. Immediately, all four girls dropped what they were doing and scrambled to their feet, grinning widely as they rushed toward him.


    “Captain!”


    “You’re just in time!”


    “Look what we’re making!”


    Vareth chuckled, his deep, rumbling voice filled with amusement. “And what exactly are you lot up to this time?”


    The girl in the yellow jumpsuit puffed her chest out proudly, gripping a wrench like a sword. “We made a game! And we’re building a referee bot for it!”


    Vareth raised a scaly brow. “A game, huh?” He folded his arms, intrigued. “What are the rules?”


    The girls quickly huddled together, each excitedly trying to explain the game at once.


    “You have to—”


    “No, wait, let me—”


    “Okay, so first you—”


    Vareth held up a clawed hand, signaling for them to slow down. “One at a time.”


    The scarred girl took a step forward, her voice quieter but firm. “It’s a race. Two players each get a wind-up automaton, and the first one to reach the finish line wins.”


    The twin in green grinned. “But! The track has obstacles! Spinning gears, swinging pendulums, all sorts of cool traps!”


    “And! You can sabotage your opponent’s automaton with small gadgets—ONLY small ones, no explosives!” the girl in yellow added hastily, as if that had been an issue before. Vareth hummed thoughtfully, impressed by their creativity. “Not bad,” he admitted, rubbing his chin. “A game of both speed and strategy, then.”


    The girls beamed with pride. The twin in indigo smirked. “We’ll even let you play for free!


    Vareth blinked, then narrowed his eyes slightly. “For free?” he repeated. “That means you’re charging others.”


    The girls all straightened proudly and, in perfect unison, declared, “We’re out of Sol Drakes and are starting a business!”


    Vareth sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Of course you are…”


    The girls shared nervous glances as they watched the captain reach into his coat pocket. Then, to their astonishment, Vareth pulled out a handful of shimmering Sol Drakes—each coin crafted from deep azure metal, with a glowing silhouette of a celestial serpent coiling in an endless loop along its surface. The serpent’s body pulsed faintly with imbued magic, as if alive beneath the metal.


    The girls gasped in awe at the sight. Vareth offered them a small, knowing smile. “If you needed coins, you could have just asked.”


    He held out the Sol Drakes, and the girls hesitated only a moment before eagerly grabbing their share, their eyes gleaming with excitement.


    “Thank you, Captain!”


    “You’re the best!”


    “We’ll make the automaton extra fancy now!”


    Vareth chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s the least I can do for my crew members.”


    With that, he turned on his heel and began walking off, his coat swaying behind him. The girls quickly huddled together, eagerly splitting their newfound treasure among themselves.


    But one of them didn’t immediately join in. The scarred girl remained still, watching as Vareth disappeared down the hallway, turning a corner. Her olive-green eyes softened, a warmth flickering in their depths.


    She clutched one of the Sol Drake coins in her deeply scarred hand, her fingers curling around its glowing surface. Then, with a small, quiet smile, she whispered, “Thank you, Captain.”


    Vareth stepped into his quarters, the heavy wooden door creaking slightly as it shut behind him. The room was dimly lit, bathed in a faint golden glow from the enchanted lanterns that hovered lazily in the air. The scent of aged parchment, old leather, and a faint trace of sea salt filled the space, carrying whispers of past journeys and unspoken memories.


    With a tired sigh, he shrugged off his naval officer’s coat, the deep blue fabric embroidered with golden trim and lined with brass buttons. He carefully draped it over a polished wooden coat stand beside his desk.


    The desk itself was cluttered but in a way that spoke of careful use rather than neglect. A collection of magical artifacts and trinkets rested atop its surface, each humming softly with latent energy.


    The first was a compass with a floating, glowing needle that spun unpredictably, said to point toward one’s heart’s truest desire. Next to it was a small crystal sphere filled with swirling mists, replaying faint echoes of past conversations when held.


    While nearby stood a golden hourglass, its sand frozen mid-fall, rumored to contain a moment stolen from time itself. Lastly, an old, worn-out map, partially unrolled, its ink shifting occasionally as if whispering hidden routes known only to the sea.


    To the right of the desk, a large window allowed faint beams of light to pierce through the thick shadows of the room. The light cast a soft glow against the walls, illuminating rows of moving portraits that spanned across the space—each one a glimpse into different points of Vareth’s past.


    He walked toward them, his tail swaying slightly behind him as his golden eyes traced the faces captured within the enchanted images. Some of the older magical photos flickered slightly, the snowy landscapes shifting subtly as the people within moved with ghostly realism.


    In several images, he was standing beside his wife and son, their forms huddled close, warmth radiating from their smiles despite the cold surroundings. His wife’s brown hair whipped in the wind, her soft eyes alight with laughter as she embraced their young son, whose eager grin mirrored her own.


    In other photos, Vareth was surrounded by his old crew, standing in heavy winter gear, their breath visible in the cold air. The backdrop of the images was always the same—vast, snow-covered landscapes, castles, and villages once oppressed, now freed. The memory of those glory days settled into Vareth’s chest like a warm ember, a time when they all roamed the world, liberating kingdoms buried under the weight of an eternal winter.


    His gaze then fell to the largest magical portrait in the room, framed in dark mahogany, hanging proudly in the center of the wall. It was taken in front of a massive snow-covered kingdom, its towering spires now reclaimed by its people. Vareth stood at the forefront, his younger self grinning with pride, his arms crossed as the wind blew through his heavy navy cloak. His old crew stood beside him—each member a legend in their own right.


    First was a towering man clad In full plate armor, his silver beard flecked with frost, carrying a greatsword nearly as tall as he was.


    Next to him stood a woman draped in a long, fur-lined coat, pistols strapped to her thighs, her smirk sharp as a dagger. While to her right hovered a hooded mage, their hands aglow with icy blue magic, standing with quiet resolve.


    Lastly, a burly chimera hybrid with thick, feline features stood tall, his fur dusted with snow as he bared his teeth in a grin.


    And standing off to the side, yet impossible to miss, was Aerin. She stood tall, her blue skin glowing faintly under the snow-lit sky, the light catching the swirling white tattoos across her forearms and legs. Her long, ghostly white hair was swept over one shoulder, partially braided in elegant loops.


    Her four powerful arms rested at her sides, two of them crossed while one held a long obsidian staff crackling faintly with cosmic energy. Her starry violet eyes radiated warmth as she smiled, her flowing battle robes, deep black with golden embroidery, shifting slightly with movement.


    Beside her, at just eleven years old, stood a younger, human Ray—his white exosuit gleaming beneath the snowfall, his cape billowing from the wind. His piercing green eyes practically glowed with warmth and innocence, his youthful face calm but focused. He looked straight at the camera with quiet confidence, while Aerin’s maternal hand rested on his shoulder, as if silently watching over him.


    Vareth let out a slow breath as he stepped forward, his claws tracing along the wooden frame. “Aerin…” he murmured under his breath. “It’s been years…”


    He hadn’t seen her in what felt like a lifetime. He wondered if she still roamed the stars, guiding lost souls, teaching the next generation of sorcerers. There was no doubt in his mind that she was still out there, strong and unwavering as ever.


    His golden eyes slowly drifted downward, falling onto the young Ray in the photo. He stared at the boy’s face for a long moment, lost in thought.


    A flood of memories washed over him—the battles fought side by side, the kingdoms saved, the villages they helped rebuild. Ray, despite his youth, had been a beacon of hope, a force of nature wrapped in the form of a boy. There were countless moments where Ray had saved him and his crew, pulling them from the brink of destruction with his brilliance, courage, and raw cosmic power.


    Vareth’s golden eyes softened, his tail flicking behind him as he let the nostalgia settle. He had always believed Ray would change the world. And in many ways… he had.


    But what had become of him? Had he grown into the heroic warrior he was destined to be? Had he continued to fight for those who had no one else? Or had he vanished into legend, leaving behind only whispers of his former glory?


    Vareth closed his eyes for a moment before a rare, genuine soft smile crept onto his face. “If only you were still here to see this, Ray…” he whispered to himself. “You’d be amazed at how much you mean to these people… how much they look up to you.”


    Vareth let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. A hero. A legend. A symbol. If only Ray knew just how much the world still chanted his name.


    But a familiar, teasing voice cut through Vareth’s nostalgic thoughts, smooth yet laced with a mischievous edge. “You flatter me, Captain.”


    The boy quipped nonchalantly, his tone carrying the weight of both amusement and something deeper—something almost knowing. His voice, though mechanical in nature, still held that undeniable charm, the same effortless confidence Vareth remembered. The sound was accompanied by a faint hum of energy, like distant stardust crackling in the air.


    Vareth’s golden eyes widened in shock as he quickly snapped his head toward the voice. His grip instinctively tightened around the hilt of his katana, his muscles tensing like coiled steel.


    Floating effortlessly in the dimly lit room, bathed in a faint, shimmering cosmic aura, was Ray—or rather, the robotic form of him. His body was sleek, his left side clad in black metal with a violet cybernetic eye, while his right side gleamed in white plating with an emerald green cybernetic eye. There was a faint hum of energy around him, the very air crackling with a presence that felt both otherworldly and ancient.


    Ray’s mechanical lips curled into a teasing smirk as he floated a little closer. “You’re still as sentimental as always.” His voice was smoother now, carrying the weight of time, yet still laced with that familiar charm.


    Vareth didn’t hesitate. With a swift, fluid motion, he unsheathed one of his katanas, its dark steel glinting beneath the soft glow of the enchanted lanterns. He pointed the blade directly at Ray, his stance unwavering despite the turmoil within.


    “Who are you?” Vareth growled, his forked tongue flicking out briefly, his tail swaying low behind him in cautious anticipation.


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    Ray’s smirk widened, his mechanical fingers twitching slightly as he raised his right palm. A soft pulse of cosmic energy radiated outward, and suddenly—a flurry of tiny, celestial embers burst into existence around him, dancing like falling stars. The embers swirled and pulsed with an ethereal light before morphing—shaping into tiny cosmic fairies, each one no larger than the palm of a hand.


    As the fairies flitted about the room, leaving behind trails of glowing cosmic embers, Vareth’s grip on his katana wavered. His mind raced, his mouth hanging slightly agape as he watched the celestial display unfold before him. The room that had been shadowed with nostalgia and memories just moments before was now painted in hues of the cosmos, glowing embers illuminating the walls and casting ethereal shadows.


    Vareth swallowed, his heart pounding in disbelief. He studied Ray’s robotic body—his metal plating, his glowing cybernetic eyes, the faint cosmic aura that pulsed around him. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t.


    Four whole years. Four years since Ray had disappeared. Since he had vanished from their world without a trace, leaving behind only whispers of his legend.


    Vareth had come to accept the loss, had told himself that Ray had moved on to something greater, something beyond his reach. He had imagined him out there in the stars, doing what he always did—helping people, changing lives.


    But now… now he was here. Right before him. His katana lowered, the weight of the realization settling in his chest like a thunderous wave crashing against the shore.


    His voice was unsteady when he finally spoke. “Ray?” He swallowed hard, the name barely above a whisper. “Is it really you?”


    Ray nodded, his arms folding across his chest, his smirk softening into something warmer—something almost reminiscent. His emerald cybernetic eye flickered faintly, as if mirroring the warmth of an old friend finally returning home. “It’s been a while, Captain.”


    Vareth stood frozen for what felt like an eternity, his golden eyes locked onto the boy floating before him. His mind struggled to catch up with reality, as if it were an old ship stuck in a tide too strong to steer against. His lips parted, but no words came—only a breath, sharp and staggered, slipping past his fangs.


    Slowly, his gaze drifted downward, staring at the floorboards beneath his boots as if they held the answer to the impossible. His tail, once rigid with tension, slackened slightly as the weight of realization pressed down on him.


    Then—a chuckle. It started soft, almost disbelieving. Then, Vareth shook his head, a slow smirk forming as another chuckle bubbled up, this one carrying something deeper—relief, joy, maybe even something fragile, something he refused to name.


    Ray watched in silence, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Vareth finally lifted his head, his smirk widening into a full-toothed grin, his fangs glinting in the faint cosmic glow still lingering in the air. “I can’t believe it,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. His scaled hands flexed at his sides as if testing whether this moment was real or just another cruel illusion.


    Then, without another word, he turned on his heel, striding toward his desk. His long coat flared slightly behind him as he reached for a dusty glass bottle sitting beside a tiny cosmic fairy. The fairy chirped in protest as it flitted away, glowing wings leaving streaks of celestial dust in the air.


    Vareth let out a booming laugh as he pulled the cork free with his teeth and spat it onto the desk. “Well, hells! If this ain’t cause for celebration, I don’t know what is!” He poured a deep amber liquor into a spare glass and reached out, offering it to Ray with a broad grin. “Here. To the prodigal son’s return!”


    Ray chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You know I don’t drink, Captain.”


    Vareth’s brow raised as he paused mid-motion. “Still?” His grin faltered in exaggerated disappointment before he sighed and muttered, “Tch. I see how it is. Still a goody two-shoes, it seems.”


    At that, Ray averted his gaze, his smirk fading ever so slightly. He muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Vareth’s keen ears to catch: “Occasionally.”


    Vareth’s eyes lingered on him. The shift was subtle, but it was there. The way Ray’s cosmic glow seemed just a little dimmer, the way his posture held an unfamiliar weight—as if he carried something far heavier than his own body.


    Vareth sighed, his initial excitement cooling as he set the glass back down and took a deep drink straight from the bottle instead. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before giving Ray a quieter look. “Forgive my manners. How’ve you been, boy?”


    Ray didn’t respond immediately. His gaze drifted, locking onto the dim lantern light swaying above them. For a moment, it seemed like he wasn’t really in the room anymore—like he was staring into some far-off place, somewhere Vareth couldn’t reach.


    Then, finally, he spoke. “…I’ve been okay.” The words were soft, almost empty.


    Vareth, ever the perceptive one, felt the weight in them, the kind of weight that wasn’t meant to be there for someone Ray’s age—or at least, the age he should’ve been. He opened his mouth to press further, but before he could, Ray turned his cosmic gaze back to him and asked, “Have you found Gloria yet?”


    The question hit like a slow, sinking stone in Vareth’s chest. His smile faltered. His grip tightened around the bottle as his tail stopped swaying, going still.


    He exhaled through his nose, stepping back until he was leaning against the edge of his desk. A tiny cosmic fairy landed beside him, its soft glow illuminating his scarred knuckles as he turned the bottle absently in his grasp.


    “No,” he admitted, voice lower now. “Not yet.”


    Ray didn’t speak. He simply listened. Vareth let out another sigh, his gaze drifting toward the moving photos lining the walls—one in particular. The one where he and his old crew stood in the snow, victorious, while a much younger, human Ray stood beside Aerin, her hand resting protectively on his shoulder.


    He stared at that image for a long time before continuing. “I’ve looked damn near everywhere. Over every island, through every godsforsaken port, checked with every damn informant I could find.” He shook his head. "And still… not a damn trace."


    Ray’s cosmic eyes flickered, his features unreadable. Vareth set the bottle down with a quiet thunk and rubbed a hand over his scaled face. “I’m startin’ to wonder if she might really be gone.”


    For a long moment, the room was silent, save for the soft hum of the cosmic fairies twinkling like distant stars. Then, Ray spoke again. “And Bastion? What about him?”


    At that, Vareth let out a somber chuckle, shaking his head. “Still grieving.” His voice carried the weight of something far heavier than mere words.


    Vereth ran a clawed hand along his scaly head before crossing his arms. “Losing a mother… it does things to a kid. Growing up without her…” He exhaled, the breath slow and measured, as if trying to push back something unspoken. “It leaves a scar.”


    Ray remained silent, his gaze steady as Vareth sighed, his golden eyes flickering with something caught between frustration and sorrow.


    “The boy’s started accusing me now,” he admitted, his tone edged with exhaustion and sorrow. “Says I ain’t searched hard enough. That I don’t even want to find her anymore .”


    His jaw tightened, a muscle in his cheek twitching. “Like I haven’t been tearing apart the whole damn world looking.”


    Ray’s expression darkened slightly as he nodded. “I don’t remember him being like that.” His voice was softer now. “So… confrontational.”


    Vareth sighed again, rubbing the back of his neck. “Kids change, boy. It’s part of growin’ up.” His golden eyes flicked toward Ray, his narrowed gaze scanning the boy’s robotic body. “And judging by appearances, I bet you know that quite well.”


    Ray didn’t respond right away. Instead, his gaze drifted downward, locking onto his black cybernetic hand. His fingers twitched slightly before clenching into a fist. Faint cosmic sparks crackled along the seams of his metal plating, flickering like a dying star.


    Vareth noticed—but he didn’t comment. Not yet.


    The cabin remained dimly lit, bathed in the lingering glow of the tiny cosmic fairies that drifted lazily through the air. The warm amber light from the lanterns flickered softly, casting long, wavering shadows along the walls lined with maps, old photographs, and weathered trinkets of past adventures. The scent of salt, aged wood, and the faint burn of liquor lingered in the air.


    Ray finally turned his gaze back to Vareth, his cosmic eyes searching the captain’s face. Then, without a word, he hovered forward, the faint hum of his energy thrumming softly in the quiet. He settled onto the edge of the desk beside Vareth, the metallic plating of his body glinting under the lantern’s glow.


    Slowly, Ray reached out and placed a firm white hand on Vareth’s shoulder, the contrast between his smooth, cool metal fingers and the captain’s rough, scarred scales striking.


    “You’ll find her eventually, Captain,” Ray said, his voice steady, sure. “I know you will.”


    Vareth let out a slow breath, his eyes drifting toward the bottle in his grasp before nodding somberly. His tail flicked once against the wooden floor before settling still.


    “Glad to have you back, boy.” His voice was quieter this time, but the emotion behind it was unmistakable.


    Ray’s lips curled into a small, genuine smile. “Glad you’re still alive and well.”


    The two sat in a companionable silence, the weight of the years apart settling between them—not heavy with regret, but thick with unspoken thoughts and memories. The air, once tense, softened with the presence of old familiarity.


    Then, with an awkward little chirp, a tiny cosmic fairy clumsily crawled up Vareth’s leg. Her shimmering wings fluttered weakly, her little silver body wobbling as she clambered onto his knee.


    Vareth arched a brow, watching her antics with amusement. Then, with surprising gentleness for someone of his size, he lifted the tiny creature into his palm.


    The fairy squeaked in surprise and promptly toppled backward with a soft “Oomf!” Tiny cosmic sparks erupted from where she fell, dancing like miniature shooting stars.


    The sparks tickled Vareth’s scales, making him let out a low, rumbling chuckle. The warmth of his laughter filled the space as he watched the fairy right herself with an indignant shake of her translucent wings.


    Ray observed the exchange in silence, a small, somber smile on his lips. For all of Vareth’s rough edges, for all the scars and burdens he carried, there was still that same warmth beneath it all.


    But the moment didn’t last. “So…” Ray finally spoke up, his voice quieter now, yet firm. “I saw them.”


    Vareth glanced at him, tilting his head slightly. “Saw what?”


    Ray’s expression hardened just a fraction. “The captives. The slaves.”


    Vareth’s smile faltered. The amusement in his golden eyes dimmed as he turned his gaze back to the fairy in his palm. For a moment, he simply held her there, watching as her tiny body pulsed with soft cosmic light.


    Then, with a sigh, he spoke. “Things… haven’t always been great since you left, kid.” His voice was lower, rougher.


    Ray didn’t say anything. He simply listened, his glowing gaze never leaving the older man.


    Vareth exhaled, rubbing a clawed hand over his face before continuing. “After you left, Aerin went on to slay the Frostveil Monarch.”


    Ray’s eyes widened, the glow in them flickering. “She… did?” His voice was quiet, disbelieving.


    Vareth nodded. “Yeah. Brought an end to the eternal winter that hung over the land.” He hesitated, then added, “She said it was ‘Solhawk’ that gave her the strength to do it.”


    Ray’s mouth fell open slightly. His mind raced, struggling to process what he’d just heard.


    “She… No way…” he whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. Aerin, of all people—the stoic, unshakable guardian who always spoke of fate as an unyielding force—had taken action. She had changed fate.


    Vareth chuckled softly, then gestured toward the nearby window. Sunlight streamed through the glass, casting golden rays across the cabin’s wooden floor.


    “After the Frostveil Monarch fell, the warmth of spring and summer returned,” he said, his voice carrying something between pride and nostalgia. “The cold, the endless winter, the misery—it all became a thing of the past.”


    Ray stared at the sunlight, his mind still whirling. So much had changed in his absence. So much he hadn’t been there to witness. And yet, for all the weight pressing on his chest, a small part of him couldn’t help but feel the warmth, too.


    Ray’s brow furrowed, his jaw tightening slightly as he absorbed Vareth’s words. He wanted to believe—wanted to let the warmth of hope take root in his chest—but experience had taught him better. Hope, more often than not, led to disappointment. His glowing eyes flickered as he hesitated before speaking, wary of letting himself feel too much.


    “What happened to Aerin after that?” His voice was measured, but the tension beneath it was unmistakable.


    Vareth’s expression darkened, the lines of age and burden settling heavier on his features. His golden eyes softened, and when he spoke, his voice was quieter, laced with something bitter and heavy.


    “She disappeared.” The words fell from his lips like lead. “Just like you did, Ray. No one’s seen her since.”


    Ray felt something in him sink. A hollow weight settled in his chest, an echo of loss and uncertainty. Aerin, the warrior who had once been his teacher, his protector—gone, just like that. The warmth of hope that had been kindling within him flickered dangerously, on the verge of being snuffed out.


    Vareth leaned back slightly, his gaze distant. “And that golden age of peace?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “It didn’t last.”


    Ray’s glowing eyes lifted to meet his. “What do you mean?”


    Vareth exhaled, rubbing a scaled hand over his face before tilting his head toward Ray. “A new, far crueler ruler came to power.”


    Ray’s expression darkened. “A new ruler?” Ray whispered hesitantly.


    Vareth gave a slow, solemn nod. “He resides within The Shrouded Veil.” Vareth said with a somber pause. “He is the King of Celestia.”


    The name lingered in the air like a storm on the horizon. Vareth turned his gaze back to the tiny fairy still nestled in his palm, its soft glow reflecting in his golden eyes.


    He spoke, his voice carrying a weight Ray had rarely heard before. "He rose to power in Aerin’s absence. And since then, no one’s been able to stop him. He rules over the land now, and because of him… slavery, trafficking—it’s all become rampant.”


    Ray’s face fell, his cosmic glow dimming as dread pooled in his gut. He swallowed thickly, his voice quieter, almost desperate.


    “Then why hasn’t Aerin intervened?” His fingers twitched slightly, curling into his palm. “She defied fate once—why not again?” His voice had risen slightly, but the frustration in it wasn’t directed at Vareth. It was aimed at the void, at the unknown, at the possibility that maybe—just maybe—the universe was once again proving that change was only temporary.


    His thoughts churned, his mind racing. If Aerin of all people would defy her fate… then maybe…


    Vareth’s voice cut through his spiraling thoughts. “Before she left, she gave me something."


    Ray’s head snapped up, his cosmic eyes locking onto Vareth’s somber expression. “A scroll,” Vareth continued, his voice steady but laced with something unreadable. “One with a prophecy written inside.”


    Ray’s breath hitched, his cybernetic eyes widening further in alarm. “A prophecy?”


    Vareth gave a low whistle, and from beneath his desk, something stirred. A faint, golden glow flickered as a scroll began to rise into the air, moving of its own accord. It hovered weightlessly for a moment before settling gently into Vareth’s outstretched hand.


    Ray’s mouth trembled slightly as he stared at it. The scroll was unlike anything he had ever seen. Its parchment was not mere paper but something far more ancient, woven from silken strands of celestial energy.


    The surface shimmered faintly, shifting between deep indigo and warm gold, like a night sky turning into dawn. Strange, luminescent glyphs pulsed along the edges, shifting and twisting as if alive. Tiny flecks of stardust trailed off its surface, dissolving into the air with a quiet hum.


    The ends of the scroll were capped with intricately carved silver, inlaid with faintly glowing symbols that seemed to shift as one’s eyes moved over them. It thrummed in Vareth’s grasp, as though aware of being held.


    Vareth turned it over in his hands, studying it with the same quiet reverence he had the first day he received it. “She told me to hold onto this all these years,” he murmured.


    Ray swallowed hard, his cosmic glow flickering in fear. “Did she tell you why?” Ray asked quietly with a shaky voice.


    Vareth shook his head. “No. Just that it contained a prophecy.”


    Ray’s gaze never left the scroll, his mind teetering on the edge of fear and curiosity. A prophecy. Aerin had defied fate, and yet she had left behind this.


    Something inside Ray whispered that whatever was written within that scroll, whatever lay inside, would absolutely break him. Vareth held the glowing scroll in his hands for a lingering moment, his golden eyes scanning Ray’s face as if searching for hesitation. Then, with a quiet sigh, he extended it toward the boy.


    “You should take a look at it.” His voice was calm, but the weight behind it was undeniable. Ray swallowed, his throat dry. He gave a silent nod, his fingers twitching as he raised his hand.


    A faint hum of cosmic energy crackled around him, and a soft violet glow enveloped the scroll. The ancient artifact trembled for a moment before lifting gently from Vareth’s grasp, hovering in midair as if it had a will of its own. With an almost reverent hesitance, Ray slowly unrolled it.


    The moment the parchment unfurled, the air around them seemed to shift—thickening, crackling with an unseen force. The shifting glyphs lining the edges pulsed in time with his heartbeat, growing brighter as the scroll fully opened. And then—the drawings moved.


    Ray’s breath hitched as he watched the illustrations come to life before his eyes, flowing like ink infused with magic. They were not mere symbols or words, but entire scenes, shifting and twisting across the parchment like a story unfolding in real-time.


    The first image showed a young boy, chubby-cheeked and pale, with messy brown bangs partially covering his brown eyes. He wore a grey jacket, jeans, and boots, his expression one of quiet determination. Ray’s stomach twisted violently as his thoughts raced. him.


    The drawing pulsed, shifting to another scene. The boy now stood before a young fairy girl. She wore a dress woven from leaves, with black leggings and green leafy shoes. Her long, dark brown hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her iridescent wings shimmered as if woven from pure light. But there was something else—a crimson red aura pulsed around her, faint yet unmistakable.


    Ray’s fingers trembled as he watched the boy and the fairy reach for each other, their hands finally clasping. The scroll’s ancient glyphs rearranged themselves, shifting like liquid gold as they formed a prophecy, written in a language older than time itself. But Ray didn’t need to translate the words—the drawings spoke for themselves.


    A great time of need.


    A human boy, brought into Celestia by an Empyrean.


    A fateful meeting with a fairy, their bond unbreakable.


    The boy shall be named The Fairy Prince.


    And together, they will either slay the King of Celestia…


    The next scene burned itself into Ray’s mind. The Fairy Prince and the young fairy stood before a massive, shrouded figure—a monstrous silhouette, its form jagged and twisted, its eyes burning like dying stars. The King of Celestia loomed over them, a towering shadow of tyranny.


    The prophecy split in two, the golden ink flickering violently, creating two outcomes. In one, the boy and the fairy stood victorious, the King’s form shattered into nothingness, golden light bursting forth from the heavens.


    In the other—Ray’s breath left him in a shuddering gasp. The image shifted grotesquely, warping into a vision of carnage. The boy lay broken and bloodied, his body twisted at an unnatural angle, his eyes lifeless. Beside him, the fairy girl screamed in agony, her iridescent wings torn apart, her crimson aura flickering weakly before vanishing into darkness.


    Ray couldn’t breathe. His entire body went cold as the realization clawed its way into his mind.


    No! His thoughts spiraled as he stared at the shifting ink, at the undeniable truth laid out before him.


    I thought I was in control. His violet cybernetic eye flickered erratically.


    But all this time—Ray’s metallic fingers curled into a trembling fist. I’ve done exactly what fate wanted me to do! I brought him into this universe.


    I set this prophecy in motion. His lips parted, but no words came at first. The weight of it crushed him, suffocating, relentless.


    Then, in a voice barely above a whisper—cracking with emotion, filled with pure, raw dread and hopelessness—Ray finally spoke.


    “Why, Aerin…?” His voice trembled, his entire form quaking as the words fell from his lips like a dying star.