Page 28

HEAT RIPPLED under Riv’En’s skin like a living thing.

It crawled along his spine, prickled at the base of his skull.

But instead of giving in to it, he stood silent beside the ship’s viewing panel, eyes locked not on the readouts but on the planet swelling large in the window before him. Elaros.Home.

And beside him, Maya.

Her profile tilted toward the light, eyes wide and unblinking as the colors of the atmosphere caught across her face.

Silver-blue glare shifting over her cheekbone, soft purple across her jaw and neck.

There was no fear there. Only wonder. Only quiet focus that made something deep in his chest pull tight.

If this is the last thing I see... there are worse ways togo.

A quiet breath escaped him, and for the first time in days, he allowed his gaze to leave the planet and focus entirely on her.

Maya. The human who wasn’t supposed to matter.

The anomaly. The threat. And yet, she stood there as if she belonged.

Her hair caught the filtered light, glowing like spun gold, athousand shades weaving through the strands.

Her hand hovered just above the glass, fingertips almost touching the surface, as if she could reach throughit.

Riv’En’s voice came out rougher than he intended. “We will land shortly.”

She didn’t look at him. “It’s beautiful. Ididn’t expect it to be beautiful.”

He swallowed hard against the heat filling his chest. “Elaros is not known beyond our people. It is... private. Sacred.”

Her eyes flicked toward him then, pale blue bright against the shadows in the cabin. “You grew up here?”

He shook his head once. “No. My mother’s people did.”

Her expression softened, her features shifting in a way that made something sharp twist in his chest. The edges of her mouth lifted—not quite a smile, but close, as if understanding had settled there, quiet and certain.

Her eyes searched his face with unspoken intent, like she saw something he hadn’t meant for her to notice—something hollow beneath all that restraint. Aflicker of something unguarded.

Her voice dropped lower, gentler, threaded with influence that made it less like a casual observation and more like a quiet truth. “But you still call it home.”

A pause. “It is where I should have belonged.”

Her eyes searched his face, studying the sharp set of his facial muscles, the faint tension in his brow. “More than Vetta?” she asked softly, voice barely above a whisper.

The question slid beneath Riv’En’s guard like a blade slipping past armor. Vetta was his station. His rank. The core of command, structure. It was where he had been forged into what he was—aweapon, honed and cold. But it had never beenhome.

He stiffened, clearly tense. Elaros was not legacy. It was not rank. It was the place where bloodlines ran older than duty, where intuition outweighed command, where silence held meaning without words.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low, steady. “Yes. More than Vetta.”

The ship coasted down, engines throttling back as atmospheric systems adjusted in quiet, measured increments.

Riv’En watched as the planet unfolded beneath them.

Lush green valleys edged by cliffs, wide silver rivers that cut through lavender forests.

The sky itself wasn’t blue, not exactly.

More like molten amber fading to violet at the edges.

The closer they dropped, the clearer it became. Trees hundreds of meters tall, their leaves shimmering in layered colors—not static, but shifting. Silver-green one moment. Deep midnight purple the next. They caught the sunlight and reflected it in fluid waves.

Maya leaned closer to the glass. Her breath fogged it faintly. “Those trees—do they really change color like that all the time?”

“Affirmative.” His voice dropped lower. “That is called the Hythara Veil. Elaroin foliage shifts based on light frequency. It is... adaptive.”

She looked back at him with that small furrow between her brows that always meant she was thinking hard. “It feels... alive. The whole place.”

Riv’En’s gaze lingered on her mouth, the shape of her lips as she spoke. “It is.”

The homes weren’t like Vettian structures.

No metal. No stark lines. Everything was blended into the environment.

Carved directly into cliffsides, half-hidden by waterfalls that tumbled down crystalline rock.

Structures layered with woven vines and flowering canopies, buildings shaped from living wood and smooth stone.

The ship settled onto a flat ledge above a valley.

As the doors hissed open, Riv’En stood rigid a moment, muscles locked against the urge clawing at him.

Heat. Hunger. But Maya stepped close, brushing her hand against his.

Silent reassurance. Her fingers curled lightly around his wrist, just a whisper of contact, and it calmed the roaring in his head more than anything had indays.

The world outside hit them with living scent.

Crisp, green, layered with something floral so potent it wrapped around Riv’En’s senses like silk and smoke.

He inhaled slowly, and each breath tasted like rain-damp leaves and blossoms warmed by the sun.

Afaint rhythm throbbed beneath the air.

Not sound, exactly. More like vibration, steady and rhythmic, as though the entire planet breathed alongsidethem.

It wasn’t just quiet. It was intentional, alive in a way no constructed environment could mimic.

Beneath his feet, he could sense it too, asubtle shift in pressure, aliving pulse radiating through the ground.

The quiet hum of a planet alive and aware, ancient, as if Elaros recognized his return and marked Maya’s presence besidehim.

A delegation waited just beyond the ship.

Elders. Tall, pale-haired, storm-gray eyed, their skin marked with elaborate shimmers like living silver threads woven beneath the surface.

The shimmers caught the light in faint pulses, never static, shifting with their breath as though the patterns were alive.

One wore a long robe patterned in muted gold and ash gray, the fabric draping his lean frame with quiet authority.

Another carried a thin staff woven from living vine, pale green shoots still curling fresh tendrils at the top, aconstant sign of growth and renewal.

They stood in a half-circle, silent, motionless, but their gaze pressed against Riv’En’s skin like heat.

Old power. Old judgment. And yet, not once did Maya step away from hisside.

Her hand never left his wrist, fingers curling lightly around the inside of it like she was tethering herself to him.

Her touch was steady, as if she understood that he needed it as much as she did.

Her gaze flicked across the delegation ahead of them, taking in every detail, but her body stayed close to his, her shoulder brushing lightly against his arm in silent solidarity.

Riv’En inclined his head in formal greeting. “Elders.”

The eldest, amale marked with dark silver shimmers braided in meticulous patterns across his brow and temples, stepped forward with measured grace. His voice carried the authority of centuries, low and steady, reverberating through space like the quiet chime of tempered steel.

“You have returned, Riv’En. And you bring the human.” His gaze flicked briefly to Maya, cool and assessing, before settling back on him with the faintest narrowing of his eyes, as though cataloging not just what stood before him, but every consequence hidden beneathit.

“Affirmative.”

There was no judgement in their tone. Just calm evaluation.

The Elder gestured toward the path winding down from the ledge.

“You will have a residence near the central ridge. Private. Equipped. We have prepared a containment chamber.” His gaze flicked toward Riv’En’s hair, noting the black instead of white. “For your Final Flight.”

Riv’En tensed, every muscle locking down hard against the rush that slammed into him like a pulse from the planet itself.

His eyes narrowing faintly, and for a moment he stood on the edge of something bitter and dangerous.

But then, Maya’s hand tightened on his. Quick.

Steady. Her fingers curled lightly, an intentional pressure against the inside of his wrist, not clinging, not pleading, just there. Present.Real.

The heat of her skin bled through his own, grounding him in a way no command protocol or warrior training ever had.

That single touch settled something wild beneath his skin, cooling the roar in his blood to a steady beat, like she had reached inside him and flicked a switch he did not know existed.

They moved in silence, following the path that curved gently down from the ledge and into a labyrinth of living structures folded seamlessly into the cliffs.

The homes looked as though they had grown from the stone itself, with smooth arches and walls veined in vines and bioluminescent growths.

Pathways glowed faintly beneath their feet, the light shifting under each step in soft pulses that echoed the rhythm of their movement.

Along the edges, flowers unfurled as they passed, delicate and translucent, casting soft glimmers of silver and lavender onto the stone.

Overhead, towering trees rose like living pillars, their trunks wide enough to house entire rooms within them, their tops lost somewhere in the clouds.

The air tasted green and ancient, full of memory, and every breath forced them to step deeper into a world that had never once forgotten it was alive.