Sunlight filtered through the woven curtains, soft and gold, catching on the dust in the air and the edges of Raine’s hair where it spilled across the pillow. Inelius lay still, not yet ready to move, not yet ready to name the knot sitting in his chest.

  The guesthouse was quiet. The kind of quiet that felt suspended, as if the world were holding its breath. Just outside the window, he could hear faint footsteps, villagers beginning the day, preparing for the lacravida funeral ceremony known as The Departure. Somewhere, wood clacked against stone. Someone coughed. A child laughed.

  Raine slept beside him, her arm draped loosely over his chest, breath slow and even. He could still smell smoke from the night before in her curls, the trace of something sweet from the market drinks they’d shared. It wasn’t just comfort he felt lying here with her, their bare bodies pressed together. It was something more disarming: calm. He hadn’t realized how long it had been since he felt that.

  But the weight came back quickly. The fractures spreading across Nox weren’t just cracks in the land or sky. They were a countdown. One that could not be ignored. The strange weather was worsening, who knew when the next quake might hit, and it felt like the hope of a solution was a million miles away. He knew that no answers would be found here on Nox, he felt drawn to protect his home, his family, and he knew that leaving Nox might be the only way to save it.

  But knowing and doing were different things.

  He thought of his parents. Of their quiet routines, their worn hands, the house that creaked the same way it had when he was a boy. What would happen to them if he left? What would happen if he didn’t? The question ached behind his ribs.

  Inelius exhaled slowly, then shifted, pulling Raine closer. His arm wrapped around her waist, and she stirred at the motion, blinking slowly as her eyes found his.

  “Mmm,” she murmured, voice rough from sleep. “Why is the sun so bright?” She buried her face in his shoulder.

  Inelius gave a faint, guilty smile. “Don’t tell me you’re hung over. I thought CIPHERs couldn’t even get drunk.”

  “Mi’mmnomtmphrrrmmnnggrrrvrrr” she mumbled something unintelligible into his skin.

  Inelius laughed lightly but let her keep her face there. “I have no idea what you said.”

  She pulled her face back and looked at him. “I’m not hungover.” Then she pouted and laid her cheek back down against his chest. “I just don’t want to get up yet.”

  Inelius ran a hand gently down her back. “Yeah. Me neither.”

  They stayed like that for a few quiet seconds, the rhythm of her breath syncing with his. But the thoughts didn’t leave him. The warmth in the room, the weight of her against him, the soft hush of the waking town, it all made the ache sharper. More real.

  He spoke without meaning to. “What if I leave… and they fall apart?”

  Raine didn’t lift her head, but he felt her shift slightly against him, alert now, listening. “Your parents?” she asked.

  He nodded once. “I’ve been looking after them since my sister passed. They never asked me to, but it just… felt like the right thing. Staying. Making sure they were okay.”

  Raine didn’t speak right away. She just lifted her head enough to meet his eyes. “They are okay. Because of you. But you’re allowed to want something more.”

  He looked away, jaw tight. “They’re getting older. The house needs repairs. And now the quakes—”

  “Inelius.” Her tone cut gently but firmly through his spiral. “Then you find a way to carry them forward. Just like you always have.”

  That hit something in him. Not hard or cruel. Just honest.

  His voice dropped. “I don’t want to leave you here either.” He realized how scared he sounded.

  Raine laughed loudly and, for a moment, he wasn’t sure how to feel about it. He looked at her almost hurt.

  Then she looked at him and smiled. “I’m coming with you. And don’t even try to stop me.”

  “Wait what?”

  She kissed his collarbone without lifting her head.

  Before he could press further, a firm knock at the door interrupted.

  Inelius blinked and sat up on one elbow. “Who do you think that is?”

  Tamiyo scurried into the main room with them and over to the front door. She was already dressed. She opened the door and said, “Hey! Good morning!”

  Aurania stepped inside and asked, “You ready to go get it?” Then she looked over and saw Raine and Inelius. Shooting them a grin, her eyebrows briefly flicked upwards. “Morning.”

  “Hey Aura,” Inelius said, and crawled out of the makeshift bed. “What’s going on?” He started getting dressed.

  Raine followed him out of bed and did the same.

  “I’m bringing my ship along!” Tamiyo said excitedly. “I need to go get it from Owangara.”

  “Oh, nice,” Inelius said as he pulled his shirt down over his head. He looked at Aurania, “The LU is cool with a privateer vessel aboard their ship?”

  “Riza’s got a hell of a lot of pull,” Aurania said. “But it also means we’ll be imposing less if we have a ship we can operate out of, less of a strain on their resources.”

  Inelius looked back and forth between Tamiyo and Aurania for a moment while he thought. “How big of a team we bringing, Aura? Tamiyo’s ship only has a couple beds, and it’s not exactly built for lacravida.”

  “That’s alright, we won’t be living in it,” Tamiyo said. “It’s slow, but it’s solid. If we gut the interior, we can convert it into a proper mission shuttle. Less pretty, more practical.”

  “Mission shuttle?” Inelius had apparently been out of the loop on some key details of this trip.

  “I’ll explain everything later,” Aurania said. “For now, we’re cleared to bring a dozen people aboard The Resolute Wind. I’ve got ten people confirmed as going—”

  “Eleven!” Raine shouted as she quickly brushed her hair.

  Aurania just closed her eyes for a couple seconds and exhaled slowly instead of arguing. Then she opened her eyes and halfway rolled them, “Eleven confirmed, so you’re the last one I need a final say on Inelius. I know you care for your parents, are you coming with us? I could really use you.”

  He didn’t respond right away. It was hard to get the words out.

  “He’s coming,” Raine answered for him.

  “Go with Tamiyo to pick up her ship then,” Aurania ordered. “Pack and say goodbye while you’re there. The Resolute Wind will be here late tonight.”

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “Shit, that soon?” Inelius said.

  “Yes,” Aurania answered, already turning towards the door. “There’s a lot to take care of, both for the ceremony and for our mission. Get going.” And she walked out the door.

  Inelius sat there for a moment, leaning against the back of the couch. The urgency of everything suddenly felt so real.

  Raine moved past him, hurrying towards the door. “I’ll catch up with you two at your truck, I need to speak with Samara about something real quick.”

  “Hey, wh—” Inelius tried to say, but she was already gone.

  He looked at Tamiyo and she just shrugged at him slightly. Then she asked, “Have you seen Soren this morning?”

  “No, sorry,” Inelius said. “But I don’t think he’s been able to sleep much. He may be out in town already.”

  By the time Inelius and Tamiyo stepped outside, the sun was fully in the sky, although still early morning. A hush lingered over the village, a contrast to the life and energy that had filled it last night. It wasn’t a depressing quiet, but a solemn one, the kind of quiet that accompanied ritual. The people of Berilinsk had celebrated the life and memories of their loved ones over the past week. Now it was time to say goodbye.

  Villagers moved through the stone paths with purpose. Some carried bundles of offerings, others worked quietly near ceremonial terraces, stringing colorful cloth between trees or laying fresh clay bowls near the fire pits. A few children chased each other around, but even they could feel the quieter energy of the day.

  Inelius walked beside Tamiyo towards his truck, parked near the edge of town beneath a swaying lattice of leaves. The path took them past garlands of memory-strands fluttering in the breeze, each one dyed and knotted in patterns with names, dates, and farewells.

  He didn’t stop to read them now.

  Tamiyo, for her part, said nothing. She had her bag slung across one shoulder and walked with the same even pace she always had, though her posture was tighter than usual. He couldn’t tell if she was lost in thought or just holding herself together. Maybe both. They reached the vehicle and Tamiyo moved to open the door when metal footsteps on stone caught Inelius’s ear. He turned to see Raine jogging toward them.

  “Everything alright?” he asked as she reached them.

  She nodded, catching her breath. “Yeah. Just… had to ask Samara something. I’ll explain later.” Her tone was calm, but her eyes were thoughtful. She’d made a decision about something, he just wasn’t sure what it was yet.

  He didn’t ask.

  They loaded in and began the quiet drive back toward Owangara.

  The road wound through the jungle, cutting through low fog and half-cleared brush. For a while, no one said anything.

  Then Inelius spoke, barely above a whisper. “It feels like… everything’s changing.”

  Raine didn’t answer right away. She just reached across the center panel and placed her hand over his.

  He didn’t look over, but he squeezed her fingers gently.

  Tamiyo remained quiet in the back.

  By the time they reached the east gate of Owangara, the sun was approaching mid-day.

  When he pulled up near his parents’ house, Raine unbuckled her seat strap and turned slightly. “Go talk to them. Take your time. I’ve got my own packing to do.”

  “I’ll help her,” Tamiyo offered from the back seat.

  Inelius nodded, heart beating louder than he liked to admit. “Thanks.”

  He stepped out of the vehicle and looked back once. Raine offered him a small smile before pulling the door shut. He turned toward the house, toward the place he’d always called home, and walked inside.

  The lantern flickered above the table, casting long shadows across the walls. Inelius sat with his fingers laced together, jaw clenched. His mother poured more tea into the chipped clay cups, but no one moved to touch them. He'd just finished telling them everything, about the destabilization of Nox, the strange weather patterns, the Liberty Union's arrival, and the mission he wasn’t sure he was ready to accept.

  “I should stay,” he finally said. “The planet and the weather will only get worse. You need me here.”

  His mother didn’t answer at first. She set the teapot down gently.

  His father, silent until now, leaned forward with a quiet breath. “Son... you've spent your whole life carrying ghosts.”

  Inelius looked up.

  “After your sister died,” his father continued, “you stopped looking outward. You gave everything to this house, this town, to us. We’re proud of you for that. But it’s not your burden anymore.”

  Inelius hesitated. “If I leave, and something happens—”

  “Then it happens,” his mother said softly. “But that’s our risk. Not yours. We’ve had our lives. You haven’t started yours.”

  He swallowed hard. “They don’t need me.”

  “No,” his father said. “That’s what you’re afraid of. I think they do need you. That’s what scares us.”

  He leaned in, voice quiet but grounded. “The girl, Tamiyo—she’s running from something and barely holding herself together. That Soren character? Sounds like he don’t even know what century it is. And Aurania... She means well, but she’s fire and fury. You put the three of them on a ship together, they’re going to spin themselves apart.”

  His mother reached across the table and covered his hand with hers. “They need an anchor. Someone to slow things down. Think things through. You may not have their strength or their speed, but you’re what holds people in orbit.”

  Inelius sat very still.

  His father nodded. “Go. Not because you’re abandoning us. Because you’re finally choosing yourself.”

  A knock came at the front door.

  Inelius stood, shoulders heavy but lighter than they’d been when he awoke. He crossed the room and opened the door to find Raine standing there, windblown and steady-eyed, with that quiet confidence she wore better than anyone.

  Behind him, his mother’s voice lit up. “Raine!”

  Raine blinked, then smiled warmly and waved. “Hi, Senya.”

  His mother moved around the table, her face breaking into open warmth. “I’ve been telling him to bring you by for dinner and he kept making excuses. This is what it takes Inelius? The planet falling apart?” She pulled Raine into a big hug.

  After a few moments Raine broke free, but she was smiling. “It’s not his fault, I’ve been keeping him at arm’s length, but I shouldn’t have.” She looked over at Inelius’ father, adding, “Hi, Darek.”

  Inelius’s father rose from his chair with a soft grunt and offered her a respectful nod. “Good to see you, Raine. I take it you’re just as spun up in all of this as he is?”

  Inelius made a sound like an amused scoff. “Even more so, you wouldn’t believe the things this girl has done in the past week. She’s somehow ingratiated herself with both Riza and the Chieftess.”

  His parents’ eyes opened a bit wider.

  “The Riza?” His dad asked in a surprised tone.

  Raine smiled, a little bashful now. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

  “Just convincing our son not to chain himself to this place,” Senya said, touching Inelius’s arm gently as she passed.

  “I think he’s getting there,” Raine said.

  “It’s just hard to leave them…” Inelius muttered to Raine.

  “Well lucky for you, I can solve both your worries,” Raine said. She wrapped her arms around one of Inelius’ affectionately. “I’ll keep an eye on him while we’re gone,” she said to his parents. “You have my word.”

  Inelius’ mom looked positively giddy. She had been trying to get Raine and Inelius together for months.

  “And,” Raine continued, looking between each of them mischievously. “I spoke with Chieftess Samara before we left Berilinsk. I explained the situation and she said if the two of you ever wanted to move there, you’d be welcome.”

  Senya blinked at her. Darek’s brow lifted slightly.

  There was a long silence, surprised, but grateful.

  “Samara even said she’d send people over to help move your stuff if you want,” Raine added with a smile.

  “I can’t say I hate that idea,” Darek said sarcastically.

  Senya turned her back to Inelius and Raine to hide her tears and shuffled to the other side of the room. “Hush you dirty old man, those women would eat you alive.”

  “Will. Will eat me alive,” Darek said with a teasing grin.

  Raine and Inelius laughed with him.

  Senya returned to them with something in her hands. It was a medium-sized journal, the black cover lightly decorated in a child’s drawings. Inelius felt his heart almost stop.

  His mother placed the journal into Raine’s hands. “This belonged to Kessira,” she said. “Inelius’s sister.”

  Raine looked down, stunned by the gesture. Inelius had told Raine how Kessira had drowned in a boating accident when they were children. He was seven at the time, she had only been five.

  “She always loved looking up at the stars,” Senya said, holding back tears. “The two of them were inseparable.” She placed a hand on each of their faces. She looked at Inelius for a moment, then back to Raine. “He won’t ask for help,” Senya said, “but he’ll need it. Keep him grounded.”

  “I will,” Raine promised, quiet but sure.

  Inelius stood watching it all unfold, the warmth in his mother’s voice, the way Raine didn’t flinch at the weight of what she’d been handed.

  He didn’t speak.

  There wasn’t anything left to say.

  The silence that followed was full of understanding, love, the ache of parting, and the hope of something beyond it.