Chapter Twenty-Eight

Kairos. The City of Gods. It was as if I had stepped into a realm of opulence and extravagance that existed only in dreams. Never before had my eyes beheld a planet so resplendent, its very essence radiating warmth and grandeur. Tropical trees swayed in the gentle breeze, and patches of sand nestled between them, creating a landscape that was both inviting and luxurious. And at the heart of it all stood Kairos, the planet's capital, its magnificent splendor undeniable.

From the moment my gaze met the cerulean expanse below, I was captivated. Warm hues of rich browns, clay reds, and deep blues painted a picture that seemed to have been touched by the divine. The city was a testament to unparalleled wealth. Gilded with gold and bronze, structures of rare stone stood as monuments to prosperity. The architecture, a blend of futuristic design and ancient aesthetics, was a symphony of color and form, a testament to the fusion of past and present.

Astreaus had been a realm of white and gold, a stark contrast to the lush surroundings. However, Kairos was different; it harmonized with the earth. The city sprawled like a tapestry woven from the richest threads, vibrant and alive, every inch a testament to its affluence.

But it was at the city's edge that I was met with the pinnacle of opulence—an extravagant structure that outshone even the most vivid dreams. Temples, adorned with glistening gold, reached skyward, twelve imposing structures of devotion that led the way to what the Kaimari revealed as the Imperial Palace.

"Teocalli," his voice held reverence as he spoke. "It means 'god house' or 'temple-pyramid.' But we simply call it the Imperial Palace."

Imperial Palace indeed. The grandeur of the name couldn't hold a candle to the reality before me. Rising above the city, it was a convergence of modern marvels and masterful architecture, a grand pyramid that held within its embrace a sprawling courtyard, serene gardens, and meticulously crafted lakes and forests.

As our vessel gently touched down within a smaller courtyard atop the mountain, the night was our silent companion. The Imperial Palace loomed far below, a silent sentinel. No welcoming committee greeted us, and I couldn't help but wonder if the Kaimari's royal status granted him unspoken access.

The courtyard itself was a work of art, with intricate stonework, ornate carvings, and vibrant murals that narrated tales of their people's history and mythos. The Kaimari's hand enveloped mine, guiding me with a tenderness that spoke of his connection to this place. The air was laced with the scent of sweet fruits, the heady fragrance of sunflowers and marigolds mingling with our steps.

Every stone, every wall breathed sacredness. As we entered the palace, the view that greeted us was nothing short of breathtaking—a panorama that spanned the city on one side and stretched meadows on the other. It was a fusion of nature and technology, modernity blended seamlessly with organic elements. The scent of citrus and sandalwood lingered in the air as if the very essence of the Kaimari's presence had imprinted itself on his abode.

Rooms upon rooms unfolded, each an oasis of luxury. Central courtyards were a constant, a hub around which opulent living spaces were organized. Walls adorned with paintings depicting religious epics or the magnificence of nature, hammocks and reed mats provided comfort amid splendor.

But he reserved the most intimate part of the tour for last. A smaller courtyard unveiled itself, an altar at its center adorned with freshly picked petals, a depiction of the Great Mother gracing its surface. He knelt before it with reverence, and I, moved by the respect he held for his home, joined him on my knees.

We stayed there until dawn, side by side, in prayer.
—------
The next day found me stirring in one of the Kaimari's luxurious guest rooms. Rain played its soothing melody on the slanted skylights, and soft beams of sunlight managed to pierce through the grayness, casting gentle hues upon my surroundings.
It wasn't long before I discovered him in the kitchen, effortlessly conjuring breakfast. He appeared in an athletic long-sleeve and linen pants, and to my relief, his iridium helmet was in place. The desire to see his face still lingered, but the moment held a sacredness that seemed to transcend mere curiosity.

As the night had concealed, the grandeur of his living space revealed itself—a portion carved into the very heart of the mountain. The kitchen extended, with one half suspended amidst the air and the other nestled beneath the protective embrace of blue and black agate stone. It mirrored his own presence—imposing and exquisite.

"Eat," his command rang out, a reflection of his distinct manner. There were no pleasantries, no gentle greetings. Just an unembellished, emotionless directive. I toyed with my food, the weight of my decisions casting a shadow over my appetite.

"Has Astreaus made any contact?" I inquired absentmindedly, the real question lingering beneath the surface.

"Azhrel is currently off-world, and my presence is not required," he reported in his usual concise tone. "Your sisters have the means to contact me, but they have not done so."

My sisters—the thought felt like a blade against my heart.

"What's on the agenda for today?" My words tumbled out, seeking refuge in the mundane as I watched him transition from the iridium helmet to the sleek black glamor. He leaned forward, his teeth sinking into a piece of avocado toast.

He straightened, the flexing of muscles beneath his shirt akin to a coiled serpent. My thoughts wavered, lost in the contours of his physique. "I mean," I trailed off, momentarily entranced, "we have so much we need to discuss."

"Today won't be filled with activities," his words held an air of authority as he abandoned his casual demeanor to perch on his onyx countertop.

My eyebrow arched in curiosity. "So, we'll finally dive into the heart of the matter? Unpack what's happened, and reveal who you truly are. Address the impending confrontation with Irina and Nerida. The threats of war with the Empire?"

His helmet shook, a gesture that felt oddly human despite its mechanical nature. "Our focus will be on Aurora," his words were a gentle reprimand that painted my cheeks with warmth. "We will put aside all external matters, forget everything else, and center our thoughts solely on her."

I fought back a smile, his intentions clear and yet oddly endearing. "And how does one engage in such an activity?"

"We meditate," he answered simply, his tone devoid of ambiguity. "We pray, we sit, and we do nothing."

My eyes involuntarily rolled backward, a reflexive reaction that hardly went unnoticed.

"Hey," his scolding was immediate. "Don't roll your eyes at me."

Apology laced my response, accompanied by a subtle warmth at the thought of his discipline. "I apologize, it's just... the last thing I want to do right now is be alone with my thoughts."

The Kaimari claimed the remaining crumbs of my toast. "Princess, that's precisely when the gods insist we do it."
-----

On the first day, he showed me his home’s library. For twelve hours, only pausing for meals, we knelt, eyes half closed, staring at his bookshelf walls. A maddening practice, it seemed. I longed to voice my frustrations, to demand an explanation for this peculiar ordeal, but my spirit was ensnared in the grip of a consuming melancholy. Throughout that day, I wrestled with my failures, each tear I held back a testament to my perceived inadequacies—my inability to protect Nerida, my perceived abandonment of Irina.

As twilight crept over the room, the Kaimari Warrior guided me from the labyrinth of knowledge to a different setting—the warm embrace of his living space. We settled onto his white linen couch, the room illuminated solely by the soothing glow of golden fire.

“What did you learn today?” He questioned.

I nestled into his side, the contours of his armor radiating warmth and an intoxicating allure. "Your favorite author is Zhuangzi," I began, my voice a hushed murmur. "Kairos basks under the light of three suns. Your library, once organized alphabetically, now stands as a testament to the passage of time, with books scattered in cherished disorder. You hold great affection for plants, your botanical books are numerous, and you have a deep respect for ancient histories—fourteen books on Roman myths, four on the lore of Helios, and a staggering twenty-seven tomes dedicated to the first world, spanning cultures and languages across time."

His laughter brushed against my senses. "And anything else you've uncovered?"

“You command at least seven languages. Latin, basic, Fourth World, English, Kuut, and Spanish.”

"Close," he conceded playfully.

"And," I continued, the knowledge flowing like a river, "you're presently delving into the intricacies of Zelkarian, Quoridin, Estrallian, and Fifth World."

A subtle tilt of his helmet, an acknowledgment of my dedication. "Impressive, princess," his words danced.

I ached to witness his smile, to see the light that surely danced in his eyes. Urgency coursed through me as I looped my arms around him, my wet hair cascading from the confines of its towel to mingle with his attire. Despite the years that separated us, he remained a bastion of strength, his towering presence a reminder of his inherent masculinity.

"Rora," he began, his grip on my wrists gentle yet firm, a damper on my fervor.

A fleeting disappointment contorted my expression. "Kade," I replied in kind.

A weighty caution colored his tone. "My name holds significance, a secret to be held close. Promise me you won't utter it to another soul."

A spark of audacity danced within me. "And mine holds just as much weight," I countered, to which he chuckled in agreement. “Yes, it does.”

With a reckless boldness, I sought to claim his lips once more, but his sigh halted my advance. "Bedtime, princess," he pronounced a semblance of authority in his words.

Curiously, I found myself conceding, an odd wave of embarrassment washing over me. This realm, this act—so sacred to him—rendered my teenage-like desires trivial, foolish even.

"Of course," I responded with a wry smile. "Goodnight."

"We shall engage in nothing," the Kaimari reiterated his earlier teachings, this time extending its purview even to the realm of intimacy.

My nod was both understanding and accepting. "Nothing," I affirmed, a pact sealed in the quiet expanse of his sanctuary.