Prologue: A Wives Tale “Momma, why do the fur-people cry on A’Sra day?” “Oh, its a long story darling and it’s quite late, why don’t I tell you tomorrow?” “But you’ll forget in the morning!” “Oh, alright, but you’ll go right to sleep after, promise?” “M-hm!” “Ok, dear. Get settled in, nice and cozy in the blankets.” “I’m ready!” “A long time ago, before Sios was Sios, and you or I were born, there was nothing.” “What about Grandma?” “Oh-ho, dear, Grandmother is not that old.” “...Oh.” “Now where was I? Ah, I remember. When the world still young, we were weak, and sickly. Many creatures preyed upon us, and we could scarcely survive.” “So how did we get here?” “I was just getting to that. See, back then, there were mythical beings that roamed the earth, some evil, like Kulor-Koz, the monster of the sea, and some good, like A’Sra. A’Sra was a good being, a dragon, fierce, and loyal to us, humans and fur-people. He protected us from the old monsters, nurturing us until we could live on our own.” “But what happened to A’Sra?” “Hush, child or I won’t finish the story.” “O-okay.” “One day, A’Sra looked to the stars, and his eyes widened in horror. His mighty dragon eyes could see out into the aether, and from the heavens fell a meteor. His decision was easy. With a flap of his great wings, he soared into the sky, and took on the meteor himself, to protect the weak ones he had sheltered for so long.” “What happened next?” “I do not know little one, its been…so long since I heard that story myself. But I think the fur-people cry because they lost a dear friend..or something. Now, please, its late, go to bed.” Deep within the void of space, a star glinted and a meteor streaked the sky. Chapter 1: Cold Monday Myles was going to die. He just felt it in his gut. He could tell that there was something wrong, something off. With a huff, he hoisted himself over the wall, landing on the other side with a thud. There was muck everywhere, it had been raining since Friday, the training field was soaked. The icy daggers of the cold winter air cut their way down his throat and vivisected his lungs, forcing a rasping cough of pain through his gnashing and grinding teeth. Throaty shouts from the head drill instructor echoed across the muddy field the sorry soliders trained on, orders barked at a volume that made them wish they had ear protection. Myles tripped, his boot catching on one of the few patchy islands of grass left in the sea of mud, and he felt his tongue scream in protest. He swore, having nearly bitten off his tongue, the taste of metal filling his mouth. A solemnly ashen sky loomed overhead, threatening to dump another round of soaking cold water onto the already muddy field. The instructor barked something about honor, how fitness was the highest honor, and Myles snorted in contempt. There was no honor in this, it was all arduous, all tedious, and all exhausting, to the point that even your squadmates around you began to blend into the obstacle course, becoming obstacles themselves. Marv’s leg was in the way, Tank’s arm was moving too slow, Sam was making the rope ladder harder to climb. Myles spat a angry red glob into the dirt. ‘Knight in training. Pheh!’ He thought bitterly. Hauling himself to his feet before the instructor saw him, Myles threw himself up the next wall, pausing at the top to catch his breath. The disgusting brown and mucky green field stretched before him, and above the mire, he could see almost everything, all the bodies hustling, tired, pt uniforms caked with grime. Up here, he could get a breath of fresh air, or at least air that didn’t smell like it had been cycled a few hundred times through someone’s armpit. “Hey, you! At the top of the wall, get down NOW!” Damn, he’d been caught, and in record time too, he usually got 3 breaths in before someone saw him. Huffing, Myles let himself fall from the wall. Training to be a knight in the kingdom of Sios was nothing but drilling, physical training, and getting yelled at, even after basic. Your days were long, your rest was short, and despite the fact that the country hadn’t seen war since Lenios IV had been on the throne, they had been recently jacking up the regiments. 4 hours of pt, up from 2, 6 days a week, up from 4. They were trying to work you to death, or at least into an earlier grave, if you soliders even got graves these days. Myles himself was a few days from graduating, but the audaciously humiliating training was still part of his daily routine. He had been anticipating it for a while now, the day where he can start barking back at the assholes who get payed to bark at him. He grimaced as he landed funny, his ankle protesting the weight being put on it with every step. Great…just great. On top of being a caked in mud, his ankle was now twisted. FanFUCKINGtastic. Absolutely fabulous. Myles wasn’t that heavy either, a solid 180 pounds and a even 6 feet tall. (Don’t tell his friends he’s actually 5’11’’, he wouldn’t hear the end of it.) Leaping off his good leg, Myles lept up the third and last wall of the course, this time deciding that it was less stupid to jump, and simply climbed down. Hobbling as fast as he could, the knight in training crossed the finish line, collapsing into the mud. “2 minutes, 3 seconds. Not bad Myles.” Came a voice from above. The aforementioned solider looked up, his eyes tired from the forced sprint. It was Sergeant Tiller, his drill instructor. He was a bit nicer than the rest, but still a pain in the ass for Myles. “GET UP MAGGOT, NOW!” He roared in Myles’ face. With speed he didn’t even know he possessed at the time, Myles was on his feet, or his foot, at least. “Sorry, Sergeant!” he barked. “At ease, Myles, I’ve got a message for you from the brass. You’re to wash off, then meet Captain Schafer in his office for…something. I wasn’t filled in on the details.” Myles tilted his head in confusion. There was only 2 reasons to meet with Schafer. Either he was getting promoted, or getting kicked out. He gulped. They hadn’t found his porno mag, right? …Right? On the double, or, maybe on the 1.5, Myles headed for the showers, to cleanse himself of the muck that has accumulated on his body. The showers, thank the stars, were empty. Everyone must be out at training, or in class. Myles knew he only had a few moments to shower before a squad rotated in here. Despite his time with the squad, Myles was still somewhat prudish about being naked around others. Call it body conscientiousness, but he always felt scrawny compared to the other bulked out maniacs that inhabited his squad. The shower building was a small hut off the side of the main base, and to its point, it stood out like a sore thumb, the aethertronics that ran across the surface of the main building noticeably absent from the walls of the shower room, likely because it was a left over from the old base. The base itself was a long and flat building built in the shape of a capital t, with 3 floors, first for infantry, second for the military police, and third for the captains. Today, he would be heading up to the third floor. With haste, he whipped off his clothes and let the cold shower water soak his hair the smell of mud and filth hitting his nose. Myles stood in the stall, eyes closed as the water hissed and spat around him, the plain white shower head above him sputtering every few seconds. Impatiently he grabbed the soap and began applying it liberally to every part of exposed skin he could. When he was lathered, he stepped back into the shower, the water rinsing the soap and mud off of his frame. When he was done with that, he quickly toweled off. Dressing in his best uniform, grey pants and a grey jacket over a white shirt, he headed up towards the officer’s wing of the base. The interior was much like the outside, with walls that were covered in lines of blue light, aethertronics. Almost everything worked from them, aside from plumbing. Myles, much like the rest of the population of Sios, wasn’t exactly sure how aether worked, just that it powered objects from lights to weaponry, and it was a soft blue color. Captain Schafer was the overseer of the military police, the branch of the military that focused on protecting the royal city and the royal family. There was no reason for you to be called over to this side of the base, unless you had been framed in something serious. The aforementioned porno mag would be laps around the base at worse, not something that would be handled by the OS of the Military Police. Unless…you were getting transferred to the MP. But why? His heart tightened. The military police was something people in his position dreamed of, with its cushy jobs and nice uniforms. They also got first dibs on the new tech, something that angered the other branches. His thoughts had to come to an end, however when he came to a stop before the simple oak door of Captain Schafer. With a gulp of apprehension, he knocked. “Sir? Its Private First Class Myles. I got your request to speak with me.” The answer was automatic. “Come in, we have a lot to discuss.” The door swung open, with captain Schafer standing behind it. He was a hard nosed man, with high cheek bones and a chin so strong it could dead lift you probably. His sandy blonde hair was one of the few symbols the man had that represented his humanity, for the rest of him was robotic. …Not in a literal sense, but in the sense that he remained impossibly stoic. His office was aggressively tidy, which was impressive given it’s immense size. Myles couldn’t even see dust in the light of the window. The walls were covered in maps and charts, each leveled to perfection, and behind him, an impressive collection of weapons- likely trophies from past victories hung. Despite the size of the office, Schafer seemed to take up the entire room, his body standing like a well dressed redwood tree. His desk only had a single paper on it, which is different from the typical officer, who were buried up to their ears in paperwork. Red letters danced across the single page, spelling his doom. ‘Transfer.’ “Sit. Now.” >Where The Aether Flowers Bloom< “Sire. She’s not a legitimate daughter, she has no right to the throne.” “Yet she is my eldest.” “Acknowledged, sire.” “What are we to do with her? We can’t keep hiding her from the world forever.” “I thought you would never ask, your majesty.”