The silence in the transport was heavy, engineered to be perfect. The interior was lined with soft cream velvet and gold trimmings, vibrating at a frequency designed to induce calmness. But to Valode Medu, it felt like being trapped inside a lung that wouldn't exhale.

Val sat in the back, staring out the tinted window. The landscape of Tsujan blurred by—endless fields of crystalline solar arrays angled toward the twin suns, harvesting the Avajt¹ energy that kept the world running. It was bright. Too bright. It made the memory of the grey, soothing Inbetween feel like a fever dream.

"You are quiet, Heir Valode."

The voice came from the front. Fyn was a close friend to the Medu family and acted as their transport ide.He watched Val through the rearview mirror. His eyes were kind, crinkled at the corners, but Val noticed how his fingers tapped a rhythmic, silent beat on the steering wheel. Really the only sounds he ever made.

"Just processing," Val lied, leaning their head against the cool glass. "The ruins in Rajas... they were unsettling."

"Unsettling?" Fyn hummed, a sound that seemed to vibrate in the base of Val’s skull. "Most find them repulsive. Monuments to a chaotic past. But you... you stayed out there for quite some time. Did you find something?"

Val’s hand tightened inside their pocket, fingers brushing the rough, warm surface of the Harmonic Key. The stone pulsed against their palm, a secret heartbeat.

He’s scanning me, Val thought. The realization hit them not with fear, but with a cold clarity. Despite the soothing and comforting tone something about the words felt different, prying.

"I found dust," Val said, their voice bored, practiced. "And a lot of broken stone. I froze because I thought I saw a scorpion. Prim says my hydration levels were low but that place just gave me the creeps."

Fyn’s eyes lingered in the mirror for a second too long. Then, he smiled. "Prim worries too much. But we must keep you hydrated. Today is a big day. The people need to see their future is secure."

The car began to slow. Ahead, the Capital of Tsujan rose from the rahmori like a crown of gold and glass. Spires of light pierced the sky, and in the center, the massive Crucible of Will burned with the eternal flame of the Council.

"We’re here," Fyn said, the locks disengaging with a sharp click. "Smile, Valode. The Light is watching."

The preparations were a whirlwind of hands and fabrics. Kym was a force of nature, pulling Val’s ceremonial robes tighter, adjusting the golden sash until it restricted Val’s breathing.

"Stand still," Kym commanded, though her voice wavered slightly. She wasn't looking at Val; she was looking at the door, as if expecting the Council to burst in. "Your hair is a mess. The humidity in the North ruined the texture."

"Mother, I can breathe fine," Val muttered, pulling away.

"It’s not about breathing, it’s about posture," Selon said, stepping into the room. He was dressed in his King’s regalia—deep blues hidden under layers of mandated Tsujan gold. He looked tired. "Zhajul is in a mood today as you could tell. The harvest reports from Ousujan were low. Do not give him a reason to look at us."

Val looked at their parent. Usually, Selon was the stern jailer. Today, he looked like a man standing on cracking ice.

"I won't," Val promised, softening. "I'll say the words. 'Preserve the Light, Reject the Chaos.' I know the script."

Selon placed a hand on Val’s shoulder. His grip was cold—unusually cold for a room heated by solar tech. "It is not just a script, Valode. It is the wall that keeps the monsters out. Never forget that."

The Crucible of Will was deafening.

Fifty thousand citizens packed the obsidian amphitheater. They wore the bright yellows and whites of the Light Kingdom, their faces turned upward toward the balcony where the Council sat.

Zhajul Sen-Ren sat in the center throne. He didn't look old; he looked timeless, his skin glowing with a faint, bioluminescent sheen. To his right sat Vaelor Neval, the Fire Enforcer. Vaelor looked terrible—his skin was ashen, and every few minutes he coughed into a silk handkerchief, sparks of raw plasma flying from his lips.

And to the left, Gwen.

She stood at attention, wearing the armor of the High Guard. She looked perfect. Unbreakable. A statue carved from light. But Val noticed the slight tension in her jaw. She was watching the crowd not for threats, but for reactions.

"Citizens of Rahmori!" the announcer’s voice boomed, amplified by Vassan² Lojmon's sound-tech. "We present to you, the Graduate of the Royal Academy, Heir to the Throne of Tsujan... Valode Medu!"

Val stepped out onto the balcony. The roar of the crowd hit them like a physical wave. It wasn't anger; it was desperation. They weren't screaming for Val, but for what Val was standing for.

Val approached the podium. The Amulet in their pocket burned hot, reacting to the massive concentration of Avajt (Light) energy in the arena.

"People of the Light," Val began, their voice steady. "Today we celebrate a new era. Years ago those before us threatened our peace and endangered our light. They tried to mix the unmixable. They brought imbalance and chaos!"

Val looked out at the sea of faces. In the front row, they saw a group of children from the Academy. But behind them... near the shadowed exit of the arena... Val saw a hooded figure.

The figure tilted their head. A faint, low hum reached Val’s ears—a sound that cut through the cheering crowd. Naraa.

Val’s vision stuttered. For a split second, the golden city flickered, overlaid with the image of the blackened ruins in Rajas. The crowd wasn't cheering; they were screaming.

Val stopped. The silence on the podium stretched. One second. Two seconds.

Zhajul shifted in his throne. Vaelor’s eyes narrowed, smoke curling from his nostrils.

Suddenly, Gwen stepped forward. She placed a hand on Val's shoulder, bringing them back to reality.

"...but because of that sacrifice," Val's voice rang out, smooth and commanding, picking up exactly where they left off, "we stand here today. Whole. Protected. Unbroken. And as your future, I pledge myself to the truth, and the light! A new age is coming, and I am proud to be the face of that new tomorrow."

The crowd erupted. The tension broke.

Gwen didn't look at Val. She just squeezed Val’s arm—hard. A warning. Not threatening, but worried. Get it together.

Later, in the strategy room, the air was cold.

Zhajul stood by the window, looking out at his city. "You hesitated, Heir Valode."

"Your lightness, Nerves," Val said, bowing their head. "The crowd was larger than I expected."

"Nerves are a luxury of the weak," Vaelor rasped, wiping ash from his lip. "If you cannot speak, you cannot rule."

"Peace, Vaelor," Zhajul said softly. He turned to Val. His eyes were like mirrors—reflecting everything, revealing nothing. "Gwen has the strength of the Soldier. But you, Valode... you have the heart of the People. That is why they cheer for you. But a heart must be tempered."

Zhajul tapped a holographic map on the table. It zoomed in on the neighboring kingdom. Khijan.

"You will not take the throne yet," Zhajul commanded. "You are not ready. You will go on a Royal Tour. You will see what it takes, what not to do, and what to do better at! You will be the best." He paused for just a moment, scanning the room before continuing. "Your first stop is Khijan. Prince- Well... King Romar is... difficult. He refuses to modernize his sector. You will go there. You will inspect their time-keeping archives. And you will remind him of the prosperity of compliance."

Val’s heart leaped. A delay. Exactly what they wanted. Just enough time to get it together, and possibly find out 

"I understand, Sovajori," Val said. "I will bring the light of Tsujan to the East."

"See that you do," Zhajul said, turning back to the window. "And take Fyn with you. The roads can be dangerous. They know exact routes."

Val bowed and left the room. As the heavy doors closed, Val leaned against the stone wall, exhaling shakily. They had survived the graduation, and somehow managed to delay the coronation.

But as they reached into their pocket to touch the stone, they realized the truth. Zhajul wasn't sending them to Khijan to learn. He was sending them to ensure that Khijan—the keeper of history—fell in line.

Val pushed off the wall. They felt frustrated with such a task. The council wanted Val to bring fear and control. Demand the light to get in line or else, and no one wanted to find out what else. 

"Fine," Val whispered to the empty hall. "I'll go to Khijan. But I'm not going alone."

"What do you mean Valode, simply take Prim," Kym suggested, not turning to Val. Kym was preparing for dinner, ensuring all moving parts moved accordingly for such a big occasion. 

"But Tama, every ruler has their own advisor, I should have one as well. Prim is security, for both Gwen and I, if I am to assume heir, I must have my own," Val argued. 

"Sure..." Kym began, "but what's wrong with Evelyn?" 

"Evelyn is everyone's advisor, she doesn't technically count." Val went on. 

Just then Evelyn walked in holding 2 booklets in her hands. "Oh... so I'm not good enough for you your majesty?" she joked. 

Val's face grew cherry red under her brown skin. "No Evie, I didn't mean it like that. It's just, you're my Selu's advisor, won't you still be working with him once I take the throne?" Val asked. 

"Well first, I ain't ya Selu's advisor, I am the crown advisor. I advised those before you and I'll be advising those after. But, my nephew will be taking over as crown advisor at the council's demand. Once his training is up then he will be your advisor." Evelyn went on to explain. 

"That's perfect! Then I will bring him with me." Val was eager. 

"Slow your roll soon-to-be crown heir. He's still training. Plus, you don't even know him. What if he's worse than I? Hmm?" Evelyn and Kym burst into laughter. 

"Actually Evie, that may be a really good idea. With Val training and going on tour they could do it together. I'm certain the council would not additional training for the both of them." Kym went on. For a moment Evelyn though, considering the totality of it all. 

"I guess that would expedite both of their trainings," Evelyn sighed a bit before continuing. "It would give him more hands on learning. I just don't know if he will leave the garden. He's started sleeping there now some nights, he doesn't return to the living quarters. With that behavior you know the council will lighten him."

Evelyn took the books from her arm and handed one to both Val and Kym. Val quickly scanned it, revealing strategic plans for their Royal Tour. 

"On you venture the council would like these items completed and these locations visited. Tonight, we will prepare for departure tomorrow, and I will have Saje come to you to plan and get to know each other... Since I am quickly being replaced." Evelyn stated with a chuckle. 

"No Evie, it's not like that." Val stated, feeling bad about the whole ordeal. 

"I'm just messing with you. I get it. Having an advisor around your age makes a world of a difference. Besides, you were right, I will be your selu's advisor when Saje steps in. Now, I have other duties to attend to. Val if you're free right now Saje should be in the garden. He's acting groundskeeper for the garden. I'm certain he'll enjoy some company." 

Val didn't need directions to the garden, though they had rarely visited it since childhood. It was tucked away in the West Wing, the only part of the palace where the solar-grids didn't reach, leaving the plants to rely on actual sunlight.

The air here was different. In the main palace, the air was filtered, recycled, and smelled of ozone and expensive perfume. Here, it smelled of wet earth, crushed mint, and decay. It smelled messy.

Val pushed open the heavy iron gate. The hinges screamed in protest, a sharp screech that made Val wince. They dusted off their ceremonial robes, trying to look every bit the Heir that the Council expected.

"Evelyn said you’d be here," Val called out, stepping onto the mossy path.

A young ide was kneeling in the dirt, his back to Val. He wore the grey, stained tunic of a groundskeeper, his sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms covered in dirt. He was humming—a low, vibrating tune that barely registered as music, more like a cat purring.

He didn't look up. He just kept working the soil around the roots of a drooping fern.

"I am Heir Valode," Val said, adding a touch of the "Royal Voice" they had practiced for the speech. "I was told you are to be my Advisor, I want you to join me on my tour..."

The humming stopped. The young man sighed, a sound that carried the weight of someone who had been interrupted from a very good dream. He wiped his hands on his pants and slowly stood up.

When he turned, Val paused.

He looked... tired. Not sleepy-tired, but bone-tired. He was Val’s age, with messy hair and sharp features, but his amber eyes held a depth that felt out of place on such a young face. He looked at Val not with awe or fear, but with a strange, detached curiosity.

"Saje," he said simply, offering a dirty hand before realizing it, then awkwardly dropping it to his side. "And I know who you are. Hard to miss the speech. It was loud."

Val bristled slightly. "It was necessary. The people need reassurance."

"Reassurance," Saje repeated, testing the word like a coin to see if it was fake. "Is that what we're calling it?" He crouched back down to the fern. "Evelyn texted me I’m getting promoted. From dirt-pusher to royal babysitter sooner than later now. No offense."

"It's not babysitting," Val corrected, stepping closer. "It's a diplomatic tour. Khijan is... resistant to modernization. I need an advisor who can offer a different perspective. Evelyn speaks highly of you. She says you have an 'old soul.'"

Saje snorted softly. "That's one way to put it."

He placed a hand on the wilting fern. "So, you're going to Khijan to modernize them. Bring them the light?"

"It is the way of the future," Val recited, though the words felt thinner here in the quiet garden than they did in the throne room. "We bring order."

Saje looked up at Val then. For a second, the sarcasm vanished. His gaze drifted to Val’s pocket—where the stone lay hidden—and then up to Val’s eyes. He didn't say anything about the stone. He didn't mention energy at all. But the look gave Val a shiver, a sense of being seen beneath the layers of gold and silk.

"Order is nice," Saje murmured, turning back to the plant. He began to hum again, that strange, low frequency. "But things don't grow in perfect order, Heir Valode. They grow in the mess."

Val watched, frowning. As Saje hummed, the fern seemed to... settle. The leaves didn't magically spring up, but they looked less brittle. Maybe it was just the wind.

"We leave at dawn," Val said, feeling the need to reassert control. "Fyn will have the transport ready. Please try to be presentable. The Council will be watching."

Saje stood up, wiping the last of the dirt from his hands. He offered a lopsided, tired grin that made him look much younger.

"Don't worry, Your Highness," Saje said. "I scrub up okay. I'll be there."

Val nodded, turning to leave. As they walked back toward the gate, leaving the quiet chaos of the garden for the sterile perfection of the palace, Val couldn't shake the feeling of Saje’s eyes on their back.

He hadn't bowed. Yet that tiny gesture felt to pleasant to Val. Someone who saw them, not the crown. 

Val touched the stone in their pocket, a strange comfort in the contact. They had an advisor. Now they just had to survive the trip. What awaited... only the light would tell in time.