Aurea Chersonesus, the ancestral home of the Aurenian—a noble lineage of the eastern Celestion—was a celestial marvel suspended between the third and fourth skies. This ethereal expanse was comprised of colossal, circular plates, each a unique world.
A majestic palace, perched atop a crystalline plateau, was the seat of royal authority. Its towering spires pierced the celestial veil, and its halls echoed with the whispers of ages past. Within the grand halls of the Royal Palace, Ria stood before the floating mirror on the throne, waiting. Decades had passed since King Awan had last spoken, yet his final, echoing command—"We must act"—still hung in the air, weighted with the full force of a king's will.
Still on the soaring plate of Alexandrite, in the serene gardens of the royal officer's quarters, Purba stood with his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on a shapeshifting ancient creature statue that was bathed by the water fountain. He had just finalized the list of Kshatriyas for the Earth mission, a decision that weighed heavily on him.
"Messengers!" he commanded, pointing to the box of scrolls on the bench. "Deliver these now!"
The messengers bowed and hurried away. Purba stood firm, his jaw set, the quiet garden reflecting the burden of his choices. Failure was not an option.
Nearby, inside one of the hundreds of Alexandrite warehouses, the air vibrated with the raw power of Skyrea's engines. The scent of hot oil and sparking machinery filled Honter's nostrils as he watched the engineers and scientists tinkering with the massive power cores. One engineer carefully placed a glowing, blue crystal into an engine housing. Instantly, the engine roared to life, and a powerful burst of steam shot out, enveloping the area in a thick cloud.
"GARGARGARGAR! Be the saints! Just look at those engines purr!" he chuckled, his white beard bouncing with each rumble. "They're practically breathin' fire! Top of the mornin'! That's amazin'!" He watched in awe as the engine roared, its power almost palpable, then waved a hand through the thick steam.
Just then, a messenger stumbled through the haze, his eyes wide.
"Sir Honter!" he called out, his voice muffled by the steam. "A message from Master Purba!"
"Aye, about time," Honter muttered, grabbing the scroll. "Right, right, best get to it then! Time to gather what the lads and lasses will be needin'."
Below Alexandrite, on the vast expanse of Morganite, the air was a cacophony of discipline and power. In one corner, a fire elementalist unleashed a torrent of flame, while in another, a warrior's power hammer struck a training dummy with a thunderous boom. The sound of their fierce training echoed across the plate. But a small pocket of giggling stood among the surrounding chaos.
"Come on, little ones," Suria said softly, a mischievous glint in her eyes. She summoned three small, iridescent baby birds made of pure energy, a legendary species known as the Kinanti Bird. "Follow me!" she called, her voice clear and playful. She chased the birds, her movements fluid and graceful, drawing the trainees into a game of tag.
The trainees, all aspiring Srikandi, squealed with delight, giggling as they tried to catch the elusive creatures. This was her method—to make them feel the Shakti without fear, guiding their instincts through joy rather than rigid commands.
A messenger approached, his chest heaving. But before he could call out, a Kinanti bird, mid-flight, zipped past and collided with him, poofing into a cloud of sparkling dust that startled the trainees into silence. The messenger stumbled, brushing the dust from his robes.
"Kshatriya Suria!" he called out, his chest heaving. "A message from Master Purba!"
Suria's playful smile softened. She took the scroll, her eyes scanning the contents.
"I see," she said quietly. She looked back at her trainees, their smiles fading into looks of concern. "Don't you worry, little ones," she said, her voice warm. "Everything's gonna be alright. You'll have a new big sis who's even better at this than me. Now, keep playing. Your journey has just begun." She gave them a reassuring nod.
A Tycart, adorned with colorful streamers and tinkling bells, weaved through the throngs of people and carts, its six powerful legs pounding the cobblestone streets. Towering structures of pearl and polished metal, shimmering in hues of blue, green, and violet, lined the streets. This was Amethyst, the vibrant heart of Aurea's trade, and for Atty, it was the perfect playground.
"Full speed ahead, Yact!" Atty yelled, her voice barely audible over the din, her accent as thick as sorghum. She expertly navigated around a fruit stand, narrowly avoiding a collision with a cart piled high with Dykin seeds. Her Ty, a majestic creature with a matching blue scarf, let out a playful rumble, its floppy ears twitching with excitement.
Atty's eyes gleamed with mischief as she spotted the messenger waiting near the central plaza, a royal scroll clutched in his hand. She yanked the reins; the Tycart skidded to a halt, the Ty panting, its horns glowing with exertion.
The messenger, his eyes wide with a mix of awe and terror, simply pointed towards the Tycart.
"You're chosen as the handler to transport— "
Atty shrugged, unfurled the scroll, and her grin widened.
"What in tarnation, Yact! Looks like I was chosen to transport the Kshatriyas to the Langit Station tomorrow!" she told her Ty, her voice filled with excitement. "Let's get ya prepped up!"
Miles below the bustling city of Amethyst, the world of Ruby was silent and desolate. There were no marketplaces, no gardens, no laughter—only the constant, low hum of machinery and the rhythmic glow of neutralizing power orbs. It was a fortress designed to power the plates above, siphoning energy through thousands of metal pipes that connected to the plate below.
"This... this can't be..." Royal Officer Titus stared at the glowing lines on his console, a knot of dread tightening in his stomach.
The energy flow from the neutralized dark orbs was usually stable, but a discordant flicker caught his eye—a subtle, insidious pull, like a slow-moving virus. Titus rerouted the flow, trying to stabilize the anomaly, but it held firm.
"What on Aurea is happening..." A cold dread seeped into his bones. He grabbed his datapad and rushed to report the matter to Ria.
Nineteen miles below Ruby, on the isolated plate of Zircon, the only one not connected by the colossal pillar, Purnama stood in the interrogation chamber of Gari Prison. Before him sat a captured Puaka, its form flickering with dark energy.
"The dark one… his will is infinite…" the creature rasped, its voice a low, menacing growl.
Purnama raised an eyebrow, a grin spreading across his face. "Infinite, huh? Well, I bet it's not as infinite as my list of jokes. Wanna hear one about a talking cat?" He leaned forward, waggling his eyebrows.
Before the Puaka could even react, a harried messenger burst into the room, nearly tripping over his own feet.
"Sir! Urgent message from Master Purba!" the messenger gasped, thrusting a scroll towards Purnama.
"Whoa there, buddy! You scared me half to death! I thought the Puaka was finally making a move." He turned back to the furious creature, which was now hissing and spitting sparks of dark energy. "Looks like my stand-up routine will have to wait. Duty calls!" He winked, then strode out, leaving the messenger and the furious Puaka in stunned silence.