Lucien Ashvale sat alone on the deck of his small, sleek yacht, drifting gently in the open sea. The boat, though modest in size, was finely crafted and unmistakably expensive.
Out here, surrounded by nothing but waves and sky, Lucien felt no fear, no stress... only peace. And that peace was exactly what he sought and that was why he had chosen this smaller boat with no crew, no distractions, just the quiet hum of the waves and the gently rocking of the boat as it floated around with the engine switched off.
In one hand, he held a worn history book; in the other, a crystal glass of rare, non-alcoholic wine. He would have preferred the real thing but not today. A rare hybrid eclipse was set to occur within the hour, and Lucien had no intention of missing it, in fact he intended to experience it fully, without the haze of alcohol dulling his senses.
He had already prepared everything hours ago: the viewing instruments were calibrated, the recording equipment ready. All that remained was to wait. And for Lucien, waiting was best done in the company of books.
His current read was about brilliant military minds... Tacticians who shaped empires without ever ruling them. Men like Belisarius, the Byzantine general who commanded armies in the name of Emperor Justinian uniting Rome for the last time, or Subutai, the ruthless strategist aiding Genghis Khan's conquests.
History often remembered the conquerors, not the minds that made victory possible. Lucien found that fascinating.
Lucien admired them. Not because they sought glory, but because of their achievement, no matter how little it seemed.
Born into one of the most powerful families on the continent and even the planet, Lucien Ashvale was the third of six children.
The Ashvales were old money... landed aristocrats who turned corporate magnates with ties in politics, finance, and power with the change of the centuries.
While his siblings waged silent wars over inheritance and power, he remained indifferent, uninterested in the cutthroat games of wealth and legacy. He'd withdrawn early and eventually became something the rest of the family never expected... a prodigal son.
He was still wealthy, of course. With both parents alive and trying to compensate for being absent most of his life, Lucien was granted a generous allowance and unrestricted access to his trust fund. That freedom gave him room to wander and do whatever he liked.
At first, he had pursued history in university simply because it seemed like the easiest path to take why still remaining relevant. But somewhere along the way, he had fallen in love with tales from the past and not only did he become an historian but he soon became a collector as well.
One of his most prized pieces rested around his neck: a jet-black gem, embedded in a gold pendant. It looked like obsidian but wasn't. Its surface was cool to the touch and seemed to shimmer faintly when caught in the right angle under the light.
The stone came from a small research lab. The scientists there were desperate... underfunded, under-respected, and on the verge of bankruptcy. It had been a curiosity at best when he first bought it in auction.
The scientists claimed to have found something extraordinary, something with unknown composition, untraceable origin. Of course, no one believed them and most dismissed it as a fraud, a final effort to squeeze money from gullible buyers.
Lucien didn't believe them either... but he bought the stone anyway. Out of curiosity. Then he bought the lab too, because, well, why not?
Later tests revealed they were not completely lying. The composition didn't match any known element. No age could be determined. Eventually, the researchers gave up and labelled it a "space rock."
But Lucien found it beautiful. One of a kind if you will.
He had it set in gold and wore it daily, preferring it to diamonds, which he considered overpriced common stones.
A soft chime from his watch pulled him from his book.
The eclipse would begin in a few minutes.
Setting his book and glass aside, Lucien turned his gaze upward, where the sky was about to perform a spectacle unseen for centuries.
Taking a final look at the time Lucien immediately turned on his recording devices and positioned it as accurately as possible pointing towards the sky.
On cue the light dimmed.
Not gradually, like a sunset... but suddenly, unnaturally. The horizon, moments ago filled with golden hues from the sun, now faded into a dull, silvery twilight. The temperature dropped.
Lucien felt it first on his skin, a fine shiver creeping across his arms, and then in the air around him... charged like the wind before a massive storm although the sea remained clear
He looked up with a smile.
The eclipse had begun.
The sun, partially obscured, formed a strange halo around the moon. Not a ring of fire, but like glass cracking across the sky. He had never seen anything like it, not in books, not in simulations.
Then he noticed it: a faint pulse against his chest.
Lucien glanced down. The gem around his neck shimmered... not brightly, just a subtle flicker, as if reflecting the light. He frowned, touched it lightly.
'Probably sunlight refraction,' he told himself. 'Nothing more.' He thought before he turned his gaze back to the magnificent event occurring.
The water went still.
Too still.
The gentle rocking ceased entirely, and Lucien's instincts prickled. No sound, no motion. Even the air seemed to hold its breath.
Then it happened.