Regret (Aether's Story)

Chapter 2: A Fragile Kingdom

The night forest was unlike anything Aether had ever seen. Towering trees with silver-veined leaves cast shifting shadows over the damp ground, and the air carried a faint metallic tang, as though the land itself was breathing in slow, labored rhythms. He carried Lumine in his arms, her golden hair dull and her face pale, her body unnaturally still. Each step was a reminder of his failure to protect her.

“Hold on, Lumine,” Aether murmured, though he knew she could not hear him. Her energy was gone, her power spent saving them both from the chaos of their arrival. He tightened his grip, the guilt weighing heavier than her limp form. “I’ll find a way. I promise.”

The sound of crunching leaves snapped Aether from his thoughts. A shadowy figure emerged from the dense trees, her dark robes blending with the forest. She was tall and stern, her sharp eyes gleaming with an unsettling mix of curiosity and caution. Aether instinctively stepped back, his free hand hovering near the hilt of his blade.

"You’re not from here," the woman said, her voice calm but edged with intrigue. "You fell from the sky, didn’t you?"

Aether’s heart raced. "Who are you?" he asked, his tone wary.

The woman tilted her head, her expression unreadable. "I am Rinedottir, an alchemist of this land. And you… you are something different."

Aether hesitated. There was a sharpness to her presence, a mind always calculating, always watching. Yet, he had no choice. Lumine needed help. “My sister is unconscious,” he said, his voice heavy with desperation. “She… she used all her strength to protect us during the fall. I need to help her. Can you?”

Rinedottir’s gaze flicked to Lumine, her sharp features softening slightly. "Perhaps," she replied, though her tone gave little assurance. "But answers are not free, and you stand on the soil of a dying kingdom. Even the stars cannot escape their own fates."

Aether frowned but steadied himself. “I don’t have much, but I’ll give anything I can.”

Her lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile. “Come with me. I’ll take you to Khaenri’ah. If there’s any hope, it lies there.”

---

Khaenri’ah was nothing like the kingdoms of legend. As Aether and Rinedottir emerged from the forest, he was met with a city battered by time and hardship. Stone walls, cracked and overgrown with moss, struggled to hold their ground against nature's advance. The streets were eerily quiet, populated only by weary faces and empty eyes. Children played with makeshift toys fashioned from debris, their laughter tinged with a resilience born of necessity.

“This is Khaenri’ah,” Rinedottir said, her voice devoid of pride. “Once a place of dreams, now… little more than a shadow.”

Aether’s brow furrowed. The kingdom was poor, its people struggling against the weight of an unkind fate. Yet even in its disrepair, he could sense a deep yearning for something more—a flicker of hope buried beneath years of despair.

The king, a somber figure with a fur-lined cloak and a face carved by grief, greeted them in a modest throne room. Unlike the rulers of stories, he carried no air of grandeur, only a quiet dignity. His gaze fell on Lumine, then rose to meet Aether’s.

“You are the ones who fell from the stars,” he said, his voice steady. “And yet, you carry burdens heavier than most. What is it you seek?”

Aether stepped forward, cradling his sister tightly. “She is… fading. I don’t know how to wake her. I have knowledge—of other lands, other worlds. If it can help your kingdom, I will share it. But please… help her.”

The king’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Your offer is noble, but we are a kingdom of scarce means. Even so, we do not turn away those in need.” He nodded to Rinedottir. “Take him to the Hall of Alchemy. Perhaps your knowledge, combined with ours, can yield a cure.”

---

In the weeks that followed, Aether threw himself into his work, sharing his knowledge with the alchemists and inventors of Khaenri’ah. He introduced concepts of energy harnessing, agricultural improvements, and systems for purifying water. Slowly, the kingdom began to stir. Farms yielded better harvests, machines replaced laborious tasks, and the people’s faces, once hollow with despair, began to show traces of hope.

Through it all, Rinedottir remained at his side. Though she worked tirelessly to help Lumine, her fascination with Aether’s knowledge grew stronger with each passing day. She pressed him with questions, her sharp mind dissecting his every answer.

“Your world… it sounds so vast, so advanced,” she said one evening as they pored over a blueprint. “Why would you leave such a place?”

Aether didn’t look up. “We didn’t choose to leave. We were forced to. But that doesn’t matter now. I need to focus on Lumine.”

Rinedottir’s gaze lingered on him. “Your devotion to her is admirable. But devotion… it blinds people, too.”

Her words unsettled him, though he couldn’t say why.

---

Lumine remained in her glass chamber, her body suspended in a state between life and death. Aether spent every spare moment by her side, his hand pressed against the cool surface. “Lumine, please,” he whispered. “Wake up. I need you. I…” His voice broke, and he closed his eyes. “I’ll make this place better. I’ll make it somewhere you’d want to live. Just come back to me.”

Outside the chamber, Khaenri’ah was transforming. The knowledge Aether shared ignited a spark within the people, and they embraced the changes with fervor. The kingdom was no longer a place of despair—it was becoming a place of possibility.

But not all transformations were for the better.

Rinedottir’s obsession with discovery grew darker. She began to work in secret, her experiments pushing the boundaries of alchemy. When Aether questioned her, she dismissed his concerns with a cryptic smile. “Science demands sacrifice, Aether. You, of all people, should understand that.”

“Sacrifice isn’t the same as recklessness,” Aether countered. “Whatever you’re doing, it’s not worth endangering others.”

She laughed softly. “You think too small. This kingdom was dying when you arrived. If we are to survive—truly survive—we must be willing to take risks. Even if it means stepping into the dark.”

---

As Khaenri’ah rose, so too did Aether’s fears. The kingdom was growing stronger, but at what cost? He couldn’t shake the feeling that Rinedottir’s path was leading somewhere dangerous, somewhere neither of them could return from.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Aether stood in the heart of the city. The streets buzzed with life, the people celebrating the kingdom’s newfound prosperity. For a moment, he allowed himself to feel hope.

Turning back toward the alchemical hall, he whispered, “Lumine, maybe this can be our home.”

But in his heart, he knew the journey was far from over—and that the choices they made in Khaenri’ah would shape not only their futures but the fate of the kingdom itself.

to be continue..