Nervous and exhausted one Rusk Holt sat at the edge of his bed staring at his schedule for the day. A drawn breath escaped his tired lips as he grabbed a coat, readying himself for another miserable day of monotonous death. Double-checking his pockets, he cast a weary look around his room, its walls decorated with drawings and pictures. Exhausted though he was, he didn’t regret his training—loathe it he did—but if there was even a budding chance to help those girls live safely, he didn’t mind at all.

  It had been 2 years since the Hy’Kyyrian attack on Himadri, with the echo of progress ringing loud through the hollow of Aeburgh as the city grew, spreading out further and wider, transforming into a hub of alien wonders. A destination of myriad possibilities, where new structures and new lives remolded the icy nothingness into something warmer. Into a home. A home blessed by the amber glow of Bayren Emperar.

  Rusk exited his room and made his way to the ever-fancy kitchen of the upper living quarters. He’d been living there long enough to know the ins and outs of all the fancy tech that lined the sleek rose gold counters. With a faded smile, he set about his daily duties.

  Rusk had been tasked with personally caring for the twins alongside another private caretaker—Veladonna. Who was, to his chagrin, late as per usual, which in part he found himself to blame. He grimaced remembering all the early morning shifts he’d so kindly taken over for her, all the pleasant smiles he shared with her letting her little transgressions of time and duty slip past thanks to her flirtatious smile and playful remarks that now haunted the young man.

  He began to prepare breakfast, light fluffy croquettes encasing the sweet, umami-rich meat of the local wildlife. A delicacy that had grown popular well beyond Himadri, swelling the local port with traffic and trade, and drawing the attention of all manner of beings from near and far.

  A woman with white hair, tinged with cyan streaks, drifted lazily into the kitchen, her hands absently gathering her long hair into a messy ponytail. She sniffed the air, saliva pooling as she wandered over to a tired Rusk. Resting her head against his shoulder, she joined him in a silent staring contest with the Kyyr-fryer before them.

  Rusk glanced at her, a little annoyed, but he greeted her gently and with a smile nonetheless. “Did you stay up late again?”

  Veladonna stiffened, attempting a cartoonish glance away from his vexed stare. “N-no…” she mumbled.

  Rusk let out a tired sigh. “Single father of three… that’s what my life feels like.” He shut his eyes in acceptance.

  Veladonna laughed softly as she lifted her head from his shoulder, her hands sliding in to fill the space she’d left, kneading his shoulders. “Could you find the space in your heart to upgrade me from daughter to work-wife?” she mused.

  Rusk’s eyes twitched. “You work here?” he said sarcastically, opening the Kyyr-fryer.

  Veladonna gave him snake eyes as Rusk inspected the food.

  “Vela, can you pass me some warm-boxes?”

  Veladonna nodded, grabbing five specialized warming boxes designed for food. “Here you go.”

  Rusk began plating the boxes. “Could you get the serving mechanoid ready?”

  Veladonna nodded sleepily, and the two began to synergize as they descended into routine. By the time they reached the dining area, Rusk sealed each plate beneath a specialized device that regulated moisture and temperature, ensuring the food remained warm and crisp until everyone had arrived.

  With that, Veladonna and Rusk split up, with Rusk heading to the twins' rooms and Veladonna to attend to Miss Galene. Rusk knocked on Lamia’s door first, waiting for some kind of response. When only silence answered, he tapped the biometric reader and stepped back as the door unlocked itself.

  Inside there was a mess of clothes and stuffed animals lying scattered around a circular bed that was shrouded with a translucent white mantle. Careful not to tread on the mess, Rusk moved closer and drew aside the veil, revealing a sleeping Lamia sprawled sloppily across her bed. He leaned down and shook her by the shoulder. Lamia grumbled, pulling away as she rolled onto her side, burying her face into a long body-pillow that was bigger than her.

  “Lamia.” Rusk shook her again. “Wake up.”

  She was half-asleep, her eyes clamping tight as she fought to remain buried in her cozy, pillow-infested bed.

  “Lamia! Wake up!” he pleaded again and again, but she only shoved her face deeper into the pile of pillows.

  Rusk sighed, slid his hands beneath her—and suddenly began tickling. Lamia shot awake in a burst of laughter, thrashing wildly as she pushed him away, her eyes snapping open with sharp annoyance.

  “I told you not to wake me up like that anymore! I’m not a little girl anymore, you idiot!” She threw a pillow with surprising force, hitting Rusk square in the face.

  “Sure bud… if you’re not a kid anymore then set an alarm like I told you!” Rusk shot back.

  “Ugh…” Lamia rolled on her bed.

  Rusk shook his head. “Breakfast is ready. Your father will be joining us in—” He checked his crystalcomm.

  It read: Sunday, July 7, 4449. 7:12

  “...in about 30 minutes, so make sure you join us in the dining room before he gets there.”

  Lamia rolled across her bed. “Mhm. What’s for breakfast today?” she asked lazily, rubbing at her eyes.

  “I made croquettes today,” Rusk said with a smile as he turned toward the door.

  Lamia’s eyes lit up. “Really?! I—I’ll be there in a sec!” she burst out, excitement surging as she tapped a button on her crystalcomm. The veil surrounding her bed slid up into the ceiling.

  Rusk smiled, quietly proud of his now-famous croquettes. He left her room and headed for Mera’s, knocking once—and this time, receiving a response. But since Mera barely spoke, she would play sounds on instruments or her crystalcomm in order to respond.

  Rusk leaned closer to the door. “Breakfast is ready!” he called out. “Please be there before 7:45—okay?” He pressed his ear against the metal door and heard a muted little tune playing in response.

  With that, he moved to the sofa in the common area and sat to wait, glancing at his crystalcomm now and then to make sure they didn’t go back to sleep.

  Meanwhile, on the Starglider’s bridge, sitting on a dark throne was Bayren. His long claws tapping lightly against the intricately carved chair. His eyeless visage cracked as he stared at the display, his maw hissing with rising contempt. Cythrallis Empusae had been sighted—alive—and within the Crepusculata. He studied a public report he’d only recently gotten his claws on. His snout cracked as he frowned.

  Xaund you bastard…

  Xaund Saxcrar, a fellow head of the House of 15, had enacted a Veil Ordinance on the lower end of the Crepusculata,choking the flow of information before it could travel further inward. And thanks to his ties with Alvlad and the Grayscale, the ORPA network had aided in the information embargo. And though these systems could not fully halt the spread of information, they could cripple its speed.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  This all but screams get out… First the tariffs, the increase in ORPA activity, and now the Veil Ordinance… If only I’d…

  Bayren sighed as he stared at the article on his display, it read:

  PORT FELLI HIT—Former Sagrada Acronica Member Talas and “Paper Prince” Simon Mere Named in Ongoing Assault.

  PORT FELLI, Sept. 18 — The port city of Felli, situated in the lower Planura of the Crepusculata Translate, was the site of a coordinated attack late Saturday involving Simon Mere, an excommunicated Vileblood Prince, and his accomplice, Talas the former Order member of the Sagrada Acronica—the Dragon God of Waves.

  According to Diodecian officials, the assault was directed at the High Palace of Poltheris Vaund, the Diodecian Prince. At this time, authorities have not released information regarding the motive behind the attack.

  The incident resulted in extensive damage to the palace infrastructure and the confirmed deaths of numerous Diodecian Karamar soldiers. Emergency response ranger units and palace security remain deployed as recovery and assessment operations continue.

  While full details of the engagement have not been disclosed, officials confirmed that Cythrallis Empusae, one of Alvlad’s Swords, was present at the scene and intervened during the confrontation. The current condition and whereabouts of the attackers have not been made public. Further information is expected to be released pending an ongoing investiga…

  Bayren sighed, his thoughts ricocheting against one another.

  Poltheris… parasite of the Vaund Dynasty and ward of the Saxcrar family. Vile freak of the sea and a sprout that deserves hellfire. Ugh… If only that titanic idiot had a kindling of sense, I’d flay you like the animal you are…

  He rose from his throne and strode along the length of the bridge, his shattered gaze cast down upon the sprawling city of Aeburgh, now stretching far across the ice. Its structures were decorated with the bones of Carboxarax, drowned in cheerful light displays that felt almost obscene against the cold.

  “Perhaps it’s time to return home,”he whispered, placing a clawed hand tenderly against the glass.

  The rest of the morning went by relatively normal for the strange family that had formed within the cramped walls of Himadri. Breakfast ended without ceremony, but as the last plates were cleared, Bayren called for a private discussion with Rusk and Veladonna.

  He led them to his quarters. There, the two stood in silence while Bayren faced a wall crowded with images, notes, posters, and scattered documents—an uneven mosaic of memories and unfinished thoughts, all bound to his time on Himadri.

  Bayren parted his jaws slightly. “I’ve never been one to quarrel with my brethren. I wholly trusted the oath we took all those years back after the tragedies of the First Expansion War. The conflicts we waged, the blood we spilled, the family we tore from one another—”

  His coarse voice grew somber. “The curse of calamity.” He exhaled. “It seems I am still lost in the pain and exhaustion of that dread-ridden era where the only certainty I held was the calamity I brought. And even though we shared the same final crusade—after the deaths of our kin, after the greatest betrayal—I’m once again reminded of how little empathy my brethren have to spare.” Bayren turned to face them. “I came to Himadri to escape the politics of my kin. But it seems my mind has yet to join us and I have failed to notice the rats that hide in calamities’ shadows.” His shattered visage shimmered. “Poltheris Vaund. A Diodecian prince—and the biological father of Mera and Lamia.”

  Rusk and Veladonna’s eyes widened, confusion twisting into harrowing curiosity.

  Bayren continued with a heavy exhale.“Cythrallis mentioned him back during its attack on the port. At the time, I doubted a pathetic tadpole would dare press a Calamity Lord like myself. Lost in the fear of my brethren, I mistook its words and actions as a ruse—meant only to unnerve me.”

  His jaws tightened so hard they splintered. “My pride leapt ahead of reality and in my foolish certainty I accused Xaund and Alvlad in private—furthering the rift between us. Thus Leading to the damned Veil…” He sighed in defeat. “Truth is—Xaund simply detests my presence, but not enough to force conflict. While Alvlad doesn’t care, leaving his pets to their whims.”

  Bayren’s jaws set. “Disdain and Ignorance define them, leaving the dubious reality that a mere Diodecian germ dared to transgress against me.”

  Fractures spread across his snout. “The Veil Ordinance has caused more harm than I’d expected. Isolation from the wider world is a dangerous predicament. I should have acted sooner—but in my arrogance, I assumed our dealings with Cythrallis had ended. I was wrong. I failed to end Alvlad's pet which as of last year seems to still be in ?league with Vaund who is using Xaund and his veil as cover for his disturbing inclinations.”

  Bayren produced a folder and handed it to Rusk. “Mera and Lamia’s genes were sequenced and modified by our local Setacian—though the foul mechanoid refuses to divulge its data, leaving us blind and at mercy of its vile algorithms. But no longer. As the twins got older, our capabilities to safely test them revealed the strange truth of their alien genetics. Leading us straight to Poltheris. A fiend I’ve come to understand has a strange fascination with hybrids… and thanks to my Kyyr—and the Setacian’s work—we have created precisely what he desires most. Viable hybrids between man and Diodecian.” He paused. “Poltheris’s obsession is a mystery—one I doubt carries meaning beyond some perturbing fetish. Were he not a ward of the Saxcrar family I’d have personally claimed his head, but my oath as a member of House 15 prevents me from killing the deranged Kraken spawn.” He raised his visage high, his cracked face mending into black. “So understand this. I intend to leave Himadri. We will cross through the Crepusculata, ascend to the higher planuras, and return to my domain on Luxinae Prime.”

  Rusk’s mind reeled beneath the weight of it all, confusion and questions crowding in at once.

  “Wait… so—how long have you known the girls were targets?” he asked.

  “A little over a year,” Bayren replied flatly. “I had planned to remain until they came of age. But with the revelation of Cythrallis’s survival—and its lingering connection to Vaund—we can no longer afford to wait.”

  “Huh? Why were you willing to wait that long?” Rusk asked.

  Bayren’s face darkened. “You’ve grown complacent to my presence here. Once we return to Luxinae Prime, there will be little opportunity for us to meet. I am a Calamity Lord after all, and I have learned never to play favorites in the presence of my other children—especially those who share my blood and the curse of Khaum.” Bayren sat in the chair that was next to him, slumping into it as he stared up into the ceiling. “I only wished to spend some time with them… before my duty and nature caught up.” His voice thinned. “And it seems that time has come.”

  Rusk’s faint edge of anger faded before it ever had the chance to bloom as he stared at the old Calamity Entity, its mighty form mourning the imminent loss of connection.

  Veladonna spoke up softly. “Will there really be no way of seeing them?”

  Bayren’s jaws parted. “I’ll see them of course, though because of my position they won’t be allowed to greet me as their father anymore…”

  “But why?” Rusk interrupted.

  “We do not share blood—so I can only provide faint kindlings of connection. Enough to support them, but not enough to let them become thorns. We Calamity Entities, for all our omnipotent power can be reduced to grieving parents like anyone else—and with an unending list of enemies…” Bayren paused, looking back down at the two. “That is my reality,” he breathed. “And soon, in part, it will be yours.”

  Rusk looked at the Calamity Lord, his chest tightening as he felt a wave of failure crash into him. He had yet to gain a Kyyr ability, and the thought of facing foes like Cythrallis left him with a quiet, unsettling terror at the thought of anyone dying because of his weakness.

  “Ehhh?! We’re going to the famous Starlight City!” Veladonna burst out, nudging Rusk free from his spiraling thoughts. “That’s the literal opposite of this miserable little hole! Thank the Symbols—ah, I can’t believe we get to work on freaking Flagship World!”

  Bayren nodded. “I’m sure you’ll love it.” His gaze shifted to Rusk, who wore his dread like a mask. “Is something wrong, Rusk?”

  “Ah! W-well… Lord Bayren…” Rusk hesitated. “Am I really worthy of caring for your daughters in the higher Planuras? I—I don’t think I could protect them from something like Cythrallis. I already felt out of my depth, but bringing someone like me…” His voice faltered. “I—”

  Bayren’s visage cracked into a tender smile. “Rusk Holt—while your lack in Kyyr is… troubling, I believe there is no greater person for the role I’m leaving behind.” Bayren turned slightly to face his decorated wall, his attention lingering on some faded drawings. “I did not mean to become their father. I simply stayed.” His shattered gaze remained on the drawings and pictures of the haunting beast hugging the twins. “I don’t have to ask you to be a parent, because you already are.” His monstrous visage curled into a smile.

  Rusk clutched at his chest as memories of the twins surfaced unbidden. His eyes holding back faint tears of memory, his mouth curled into an incredulous smile as he struggled to grasp the weight of it all.

  Veladonna smiled. “Though you act more like a mom than a dad.”

  Rusk scoffed softly, smiling. “I guess so.”

  Joy Pursuit! (Doubt it’ll happen—but let’s aim to finish Steel Dragon at least.)

  threnody follows a lament, and a lament follows tragedy.

  lot happening in the background, and those events will have repercussions that send shivers through the rest of the story. Almost every named character has their place, whether in the past or the future. There's also a thematic undertow between Rusk, Pax, and Bayren that you'll only really appreciate if I ever publish Ceaseless Dragon. So yikes me... Oh well, we'll get there someday. Maybe. I dunno. Also, this whole arc does matter for Steel Dragon, especially for a certain character’s epic (hopefully shorter) backstory.

  Final Fantasy XVI, and they speak some olf funny English in that game, and I am extremely easy to influence, so... yeah.

  -Late Osric