Chapter Twenty-Seven

As I neared the ledge, the rope's anchor revealed itself—an entity unexpected and confounding. It was him—the Kaimari warrior—his stance unwavering, the sharp, spider-like claws of the other end of the rope pierced into the unarmored skin on his right shoulder. The metal tendrils of the rope tore into his flesh, a cruel price for his intervention, yet his stance was resolute, despite how every movement of the rope cut into him deeper.

With the final exertion, I collapsed onto solid ground, the ordeal's intensity settling into my bones. In the aftermath of rescue, an overwhelming wave enveloped me, shattering the dams of restraint I had carefully constructed. Panic, raw and merciless, rose like a tempest, suffocating my senses, my very being.

I was exhausted, speechless. Overwhelmed. I unlatched the other end of the rope from where I had all but melded it into my flesh. I stumbled away, the world a blur of disorientation and fear, a cacophony of white noise. My limbs felt foreign, disconnected as if I were an alien entity within my own body. The gardens beckoned, a sanctuary for my fractured mind. I sought refuge there, collapsing in the embrace of nature's solace, my heart a wild creature thrashing against its cage.

It could have been ten days, ten years, or mere seconds, but his presence wrapped around me. He was beside me, a silent sentinel, his armor exuding strength and security. In an instant, I surrendered to the storm within, crumbling against him. His arms wrapped around me, a bastion of support, as I unleashed the torrent of fear, anguish, and vulnerability.

“I know,” he kept repeating. “I know.” The strength of his armor was an unexpected comfort, its steadfastness an unspoken promise of protection. My breath found a rhythm against his form, a pattern of solace amid the tempest.

"Aurora," he uttered my name, the syllables like a fragile spell. Panic surged anew, a tempest sweeping over my senses. Throughout my life, I was forbidden from revealing my true name, and his use of it ignited a whirlwind of fear. Recoiling, I extracted myself from his embrace, seeking refuge against a bush, attempting to quell my hyperventilation. He granted me the space to gather myself, a brief respite before guiding my heartbeat back to its steady rhythm.

The darkness deepened, an inky void that swallowed everything in its embrace. Distant outlines of the castle's features flickered like distant stars. Had I ventured this far in my frenzied escape? Were we that deep in Star Grove?

“I want to show you something,” he said, the command in his voice attempting to guide me from the edge of chaos. With the press of a button on his left wrist, the world plunged into darkness, and the gentle illumination extinguished.

“Did you just–remove the lights?”

"Yes," his response was a whisper within the void, a quiet affirmation that resonated in the darkness. "A Kairos technology. Our helmets possess the ability to navigate through the absence of light."

Dark, darkness. He was only visible in the liquid blades of his shoulder.

“Aurora,” he said once more, and I knew what he was doing, I could feel it in my soul.

The shadows stretched, and within their embrace, he materialized like a figure born of myth. With breathtaking audacity, he removed his helmet, unveiling a sight previously unknown. Two eyes, vibrant and vivid, outshone even the brightest stars, each iridescent hue more captivating than the most luminous planet.

His skin bore the caress of the night, a tapestry woven from shades of midnight as if holding within its depths the cosmos' most guarded secrets. Yet, at this moment, only his eyes were visible to me. His eyes were as multifaceted as precious gems, each glance revealing a new depth of mystery. Twin orbs of amethyst, luminescent and piercing, captured my gaze across the intricate maze garden.

“My name is Kaden Moctezuma Kao," he began his words hanging in the air, carrying a weight that defied belief. My heart pounded, my breaths short and shallow, as though caught in an otherworldly trance. “I am the son of Emperor Kao, Prince of Kairos.”

My mind whirled, the revelation spinning my world off its axis. My form trembled, wavering between his entrancing eyes and the desperate need to escape. With a shaky step back, my figure retreated from those intense amethyst depths, a predator's gaze that left me vulnerable. "N-no," I managed to utter, my voice trembling in tandem with my being, my retreat leading me into the heart of the dense forest.

Yet, he pursued, his helmet back in place, his grip firm as he caught my wrist, pulling me away from the precipice of panic and deeper into the realm of the unknown. An unspoken decision lingered between us, his purpose clear.

“We’re leaving,” his declaration resonated, not as a mere sentence, but a certainty etched into the fabric of fate. "I'm taking you away from here."

A small part of me, a whisper of resistance, was overpowered by the burgeoning realization that I needed this, needed him. I surrendered to his guidance, allowing him to lead me through the labyrinth of trees, my trust and vulnerability intermingling like fragile threads.

“W-where are we going?” I inquired, my voice barely above a hushed breath. And then, through the parting trees, a clearing revealed itself, and within it stood one of the most exquisite spacecraft I had ever laid eyes upon.

“To Kairos,” Kaden answered, his hand reaching out to me as the ship's plank descended. His eyes bore into mine with a quiet intensity, inviting me to take a step into this unknown realm. “The City of Gods.”

“But I thought you were exiled,” I challenged, my voice tinged with skepticism.

“Times have changed, and we'll find sanctuary there. You can return to your sisters whenever you desire. Distance, space, that's what you need now.” His words carried a promise of safety, a new beginning, yet they also bore the weight of treason, defying everything I had known, placing Irina's well-being above all else.

My eyes settled on another figure across the clearing. Amaya, valiant and tall, stood with her spear, her chin raised, her aura exuding protection. She was far, thirty paces away, almost blended in perfectly with the trees. A silent conversation passed between us, what of Irina? What of my life here? But there were more prominent forces than anxiety–empathy, and righteous selfishness.

“Go,” her gaze seemed to convey, a permission granted amidst the turmoil. And then her voice echoed through my communicator, resonating across the entire legion, her words a blessing. “Sky patrol, this is Black Hawk, granting passage for a single ship to ascend through the atmosphere.”

I was crying now, but she took the brave step, walking away from me with a goodbye that felt more honorable than a hug. She was turning a blind eye, assisting me in escape from everything I had ever known. It was an act of understanding, pushing me toward self-discovery, away from the safety that had cradled me. It was the language of sisterhood.

As we stepped onto the ship, my surroundings appeared through the haze of tears, and with quivering hands, I claimed the leather co-pilot's chair. My communicator pressed to my lips, I whispered, “Black Hawk, this is Lion’s Mane. Confirming launch into the atmosphere.”
As the ship's engines roared to life and we lifted from the ground, a detachment settled over me, as if my body belonged to someone else. With shaking hands, I seized the hilt of my sun blade, summoning a determined strength as I brought it down upon my own wrist, shattering the communicator bracelet and my own bone with its impact.

I did not scream as it shattered. Silently, I flipped over my left palm and sliced into the skin between my pointer finger and thumb. With unflinching determination, I peeled away the layers of my own flesh, revealing the hidden tracker. The microchip that bound me to Astreaus and its enforced subjugation, was fished out of my flesh in a bloodied mess.

When the tracker finally sat on the large dash before us, I turned to my pilot. His helmet was locked on my left arm; bone shattered from the discarded bracelet, blood pooling from my palm. I expected him to embrace me, to come to my aid once more as my savior. But his gaze wasn't one of pity or shock; it was a reflection of respect, an understanding that transcended words.

“Second in command, awaiting entry,” he acknowledged, his eyes fixated on the horizon.

With bloodied, broken hands, I extended my finger to the co-pilot start button. “Confirmed, Commander,” I said with strength. And after our gazes locked for a moment, in the clouds of the City of Dawn, the planet which my chosen sister named me, the Kaimari Warrior turned to the stars.

“Entering hyperspace in five, four,” his words echoed, and I held a fervent desire to shut my eyes. To hide from the vastness of space and the glory of the galaxy. But I didn’t. I kept them wide open. I kept my eyes locked on him.