The boat drifted smoothly along the river, its wooden hull creaking as the water lapped against it. It had been a long journey all the way from the black lands of Khemet, but Aetheria was close now. The air had changed—he could sense it before he could see it.

  Osric, the traveler beside him, had grown restless from the long travel. "So, tell me, scholar. This… Aether. People say it’s a divine gift. That true?"

  Azunya turned his sharp gaze to the man. The way he asked—casual, yet prying—suggested he had already decided what he wanted to believe. Azunya would give him what he needed to hear.

  "It is divine," he said, his voice even. "A gift that has set Aetheria apart. A favor from God himself. It has granted us power no other nation can claim. Strength beyond reason. Gifts unexplainable. That is why Aetheria is the capital of the world."

  "One nation hoards all the god’s favor—what does that leave the rest of us?" Osric snorted.

  Azunya was quiet for a moment, the words stirring something in him. He thought back to his training, the lessons he had learned as a child.

  "God blesses those who submit to Him," the Grand Overseer Myr had told him once, when he was just twelve. "It is a blessing to Aetheria because we keep his covenant alive. As custodians of the Aether, we are chosen—bonded to it as its keepers. Without us, its power would unravel."

  Azunya had believed that once.

  He didn’t answer Osric immediately. Instead, he said, "Fairness is an illusion. We cling to it because it makes surrender easier."

  Osric frowned. "Or maybe power isn’t given—it’s taken by those willing to reach for it." Then he shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. "Anyway, I had this ox—"

  The conversation drifted, but Azunya was no longer listening. His mind had already turned to Aetheria. And why he was returning.

  The Grand Overseer Myr was sick. The man who had given him a life. The man who had taken him in when he was abandoned at birth, gave him a name, raised him in the temple, and taught him everything he knew. Until he left the temple and Aetheria for more knowledge.

  Azunya had spent years in Khemet, delving into knowledge no custodian before him had dared seek. But his return was not only to see his old master one last time. He needed to remind himself why he had left.

  Aether had chosen someone else. Not him.

  Omid Faris

  Azunya exhaled sharply, catching himself before his grip on the boat’s railing tightened. He hated remembering that name.

  Ahead, the great spires of Aetheria came into view, shimmering under the sun. The city hummed with unseen power, its veins pulsing with the life of the Aether. From the highest tower of the temple, he could almost hear the low, steady resonance of Aether-crystals, their glow visible even from this distance. The scent of burning incense drifted from the temple quarter, carried by the wind.

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  Aetheria was a beacon. A kingdom blessed beyond all others. And yet, as it drew closer, a quiet dread settled in Azunya’s chest.

  He was finally home. If he could call it that.

  Azunya stepped off the boat, his long, dark brown hair, unbound, swaying gently with the breeze. His boots sank slightly into the damp earth of the riverbank, and the air smelled of clay, spice, and the faint metallic tang of the Aether that coursed through the veins of this city. Aetheria, the jewel of civilization, the capital of the known world. He adjusted his cloak and began the walk towards the temple gates, weaving through the ebbing flow of merchants and citizens winding down their day.

  The market stretched before him, vibrant even as it was closing. Traders packed away bolts of silk, their colors dulled in the twilight, while children darted between stalls, their voices a mix of hushed excitement and impatience.

  “Hurry, before we miss it!”

  “The Great Hall will be packed by now!”

  Azunya caught snippets of their chatter but paid little attention. Some sort of gathering at the Great Hall of the Library, it seemed, but the anticipation on their faces was foreign to him. He hadn't stepped foot in Aetheria for years. Customs changed. People changed. Even the Aether—perhaps—had changed.

  But not for him.

  His pace slowed as he neared the temple gates, looming high with their intricate carvings of the cosmos, the divine conduit that granted Aetheria its favor. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply.

  And there it was. He could feel it again. The Aether.

  A surge of familiar energy coursed through him, racing like fire in his veins, sharp and intoxicating. It was power and clarity, strength and youth. A feeling of invincibility, of complete control. “This is stronger than I remember,” he thought. In Khemet, he had learned ways to refine this connection, to amplify it beyond what the temple had ever taught him. His fingers twitched at the memory, an instinctual desire to push further, to reach deeper into the force that governed this world.

  How much more could he take? How much more could he wield?

  “Excuse me, sir?”

  Azunya’s eyes snapped open, and he turned to see a young temple student standing before him. The boy was no older than sixteen, with dark brown skin and a halo of tight curls framing his face. He looked up with the cautious curiosity of someone who knew the temple’s people well—but did not recognize Azunya.

  “What’s your business here?” the boy asked.

  Azunya exhaled, reigning himself in. “I am a custodian of the temple.”

  The boy frowned, glancing at Azunya’s dark, non-temple robes. “I’ve never seen you around... those aren’t Templar robes.”

  “That’s because I have been away.” Azunya’s voice was calm, measured. “I wish to meet with Grand Overseer Myr.”

  At the mention of the name, the boy’s expression softened, then darkened with grief. His gaze fell to the ground. “Grand Overseer couldn’t make it,” he said, voice tight with emotion. “He had been sick for months.”

  A hollow ache settled in Azunya’s chest. The world seemed to tilt, and for a moment, time itself held its breath. The man who had given him life, who had raised him within the temple’s walls—gone.

  The boy, as if trying to shift from the weight of sadness, brightened. “But today is the Grand Ascension Ceremony! The new Grand Overseer is about to be announced at the Great Hall of Aetheria!”

  He turned to leave but stopped for a moment, “It’s right beside the Great Library if you’re interested in joining us.” The boy said beaming as he dashed off toward the city’s heart.

  Azunya nodded mechanically, his gaze fixed on the ground in front of him, fighting to regain control. He forced his expression into neutrality, as he always had. But inside, something cracked

  He got back too late.

  Myr was gone. And someone else was taking his place.

  He already knew the name but he didn’t want to say it.

  ***