Chronicles of the 7th sky

Chapter 1 — The Sky Was Never the End · Lucian was late. · Not a little late. · Not the kind of late where a person could run through the front gate, apologize to the receptionist, smile awkwardly at the examiner, and pretend that everything had been perfectly under control. · He was late enough that the examination bell had already rung. · He knew this because he could hear it. · Three streets away. · The sound travelled between the old buildings of Asterra City with a metallic echo, each ring growing weaker as it disappeared into the morning air, but Lucian heard every one of them while running down a narrow stone street with a half-buttoned coat, untied shoelaces, and a piece of bread still hanging from the corner of his mouth. · "I'm going to kill you!" · Lucian glanced over his shoulder. · Emma was running behind him. · She was somehow keeping up despite carrying two bags, a stack of examination papers, and what appeared to be enough irritation to power the entire city. · "You said that yesterday," Lucian shouted. · "I wasn't serious yesterday!" · "That doesn't sound reassuring!" · "You're the one who told me the examination started at nine!" · "It does start at nine." · "It's eight fifty-seven!" · Lucian looked at the clock tower at the end of the street. · 8:57. · He smiled. · "See? Plenty of time." · Emma stopped for half a second. · Lucian immediately realized his mistake. · "Don't." · "You're smiling." · "No, I'm running." · "You're smiling while running." · "That's because I'm optimistic." · "You're an idiot." · "Those aren't mutually exclusive." · Emma resumed running. · Lucian turned forward again. · Asterra City unfolded around him in the warm light of morning, familiar and enormous at the same time. The city had been built centuries ago around the western coast, long before the modern kingdoms had divided the continent into borders and long before the Royal Exploration Institute had become the most respected institution in the field of Aether research. Towers of pale stone rose above the older districts, connected by bridges and suspended walkways. Merchant carts moved through the lower streets while airships drifted far above the rooftops, their enormous sails catching the wind. The smell of fresh bread, metal, rainwater, and morning coffee mixed together beneath the noise of thousands of people beginning another ordinary day. · It was a beautiful day. · That was probably why Lucian didn't notice anything strange. · Not yet. · The sky above Asterra was perfectly clear. · Blue from horizon to horizon. · A few thin clouds floated near the eastern mountains. · The sun was still low enough to cast long shadows across the streets. · Nothing about it suggested that the world was about to become something Lucian would never be able to forget. · He ran faster. · The Royal Exploration Institute was visible now. · Its central tower rose above the surrounding buildings, an enormous structure of white stone and glass. Seven circular platforms surrounded the upper half of the tower, each representing one of the great principles of exploration: Cartography, Aether Studies, Ancient Civilizations, Natural Phenomena, Celestial Observation, Dimensional Research, and Unclassified Discovery. · Lucian had wanted to enter the institute since he was a child. · Not because it was prestigious. · Not because graduates were offered positions in royal expeditions. · Not because the institute possessed some of the largest libraries and research archives in the world. · He wanted to enter because his father had once belonged to it. · That was what Lucian told people, anyway. · The truth was slightly more complicated. · His father had been an explorer. · Not a famous one. · Not officially. · His name appeared in old records, but usually near the bottom of expedition reports, surrounded by technical notes and dates that meant very little to people who didn't know him. · His name was Daniel. · Daniel had disappeared eleven years ago. · Lucian had been six. · The official report said the expedition had encountered an unexplained atmospheric phenomenon during an expedition beyond the Northern Plateau. · The expedition never returned. · No bodies. · No equipment. · No wreckage. · Nothing. · Asterra's authorities eventually declared the entire team lost. · The report had been closed. · The institute had moved on. · Lucian had not. · He reached the institute gates just as the final bell rang. · Emma arrived two seconds later. · She bent forward, hands on her knees, breathing heavily. · Lucian placed his hands on his hips and looked at the enormous gates. · "We made it." · Emma stared at him. · "You're impossible." · "You're welcome." · "For what?" · "For making sure you didn't have to take the examination alone." · "You almost made me miss it." · "But I didn't." · She opened her mouth. · Closed it. · Then sighed. · "Just go." · Lucian smiled. · They entered. · The examination hall was already crowded. · Hundreds of applicants filled the enormous chamber, sitting behind long wooden desks arranged in perfect rows. Most wore formal clothing. Some had expensive Aether instruments attached to their belts. A few were accompanied by family members who were waiting anxiously outside the glass doors. · Lucian looked down at himself. · Untidy coat. · Untied shoe. · Bread crumbs. · He looked at Emma. · She stared back. · "You look terrible." · "You look stressed." · "I am stressed." · "Then we're both successful." · "Lucian." · "Yes?" · "Sit down." · He sat. · The examination began. · For the next two hours, Lucian discovered exactly how little he had studied. · He stared at one question for nearly five minutes. · Explain the fundamental relationship between Aether density and atmospheric pressure under controlled conditions. · He knew this. · Probably. · Maybe. · He remembered his father explaining something similar when he was younger. · Aether wasn't exactly energy. · That was the first mistake students made. · It was more like a medium. · A substance that interacted with physical matter differently depending on its concentration, frequency, and structure. · Lucian wrote an answer. · Crossed it out. · Wrote another. · Crossed that out too. · Finally, he wrote: · Aether behaves differently depending on what you expect it to do. · He stared at the sentence. · That sounded wrong. · He left it anyway. · When the examination ended, Lucian walked out feeling strangely relieved. · Emma joined him outside. · "How did you do?" · "Excellent." · "You're lying." · "Yes." · She sighed. · "How many questions did you guess?" · "That's a complicated mathematical problem." · "Lucian." · "Approximately thirty percent." · "There were forty questions." · "Then approximately twelve." · She covered her face. · "I can't believe I agreed to study with you." · "You studied?" · "Yes." · "Then one of us will definitely pass." · She looked at him. · "I'm not sure whether I should be offended." · "You'll get over it." · They walked down the institute steps. · The morning had become brighter. · The city was louder now. · Airships moved across the sky. · People filled the streets. · Somewhere nearby, a street musician was playing a violin. · Lucian stopped. · Emma took three more steps before realizing he wasn't beside her. · "What?" · Lucian looked upward. · The sky was blue. · Perfectly blue. · "Nothing." · "Then why are you staring?" · "Just looking." · "At what?" · He smiled. · "The sky." · Emma followed his gaze. · "You've seen it before." · "Have I?" · She looked at him suspiciously. · "Yes." · Lucian laughed. · "Then I suppose it hasn't changed much." · They continued walking. · Neither of them noticed the faint distortion above the eastern horizon. · Neither of them noticed that the clouds had stopped moving. · Neither of them noticed that every bird in the city had suddenly changed direction. · But Lucian did notice something else. · The air felt wrong. · He couldn't explain it. · There was no visible change. · No sound. · No tremor. · Nothing. · Yet for one brief moment, the city seemed strangely quiet. · Lucian stopped walking again. · Emma frowned. · "What now?" · "Listen." · "To what?" · "Exactly." · She listened. · People were talking. · Vehicles moved. · A child laughed somewhere nearby. · A bell rang from a distant church. · Everything was normal. · Lucian frowned. · "Never mind." · They kept walking. · By noon, the incident was forgotten. · By evening, Lucian had almost forgotten it himself. · He returned home alone. · His house was small compared to the grand buildings of Asterra, but it was old and comfortable. His mother was working late at the archive, so the house was empty. · Lucian threw his coat over a chair. · He opened the refrigerator. · Nothing. · He checked again. · Still nothing. · "Great." · He found an apple instead. · He sat near the window and looked outside. · The sun was beginning to set. · Orange light spread across the rooftops. · The city looked peaceful. · Lucian took a bite of the apple. · His eyes drifted toward the sky. · Again. · He didn't know why. · Maybe because of what he'd felt earlier. · Maybe because his father had spent his entire life looking upward. · Lucian had once asked him why. · He had been six. · His father had laughed. · Then he had said something Lucian didn't understand at the time. · "Because one day you'll see something I couldn't." · Lucian remembered the words now. · He remembered them so clearly that he almost heard his father's voice. · One day you'll see something I couldn't. · Lucian looked at the horizon. · The sun was disappearing. · The first stars were beginning to appear. · Then— · he saw it. · At first he thought it was a cloud. · A thin line above the clouds. · Almost invisible. · He leaned closer to the window. · The line widened. · Lucian stopped breathing. · The blue sky... · had become transparent. · Not the clouds. · Not the atmosphere. · The sky itself. · For a moment, Lucian could see beyond it. · There was another sky. · A second horizon stretched across the heavens, impossibly far above the world. · It was not blue. · It was darker. · Deeper. · Filled with enormous silver shapes that moved slowly through the distance. · Lucian dropped the apple. · It hit the floor. · He didn't hear it. · His entire body had gone still. · The second sky remained visible. · Seven seconds. · He would later remember that number. · Seven seconds. · Long enough to understand that he wasn't dreaming. · Long enough to realize that the stars he had known his entire life were not the highest lights in the world. · Long enough to see something standing in that impossible distance. · A person. · No. · Not a person. · Lucian couldn't tell. · The figure stood upside down. · Its feet pointed toward the second sky. · Its head pointed toward the earth. · It was impossibly far away, yet Lucian could see it clearly. · A long coat. · Dark hair. · One hand hanging loosely beside its body. · The other raised. · Pointing. · Lucian stepped closer to the window. · The figure moved. · Its head tilted. · Then it looked directly at him. · Lucian's heart stopped. · There was no possible way it could see him. · He was inside a house. · On a planet. · Under an atmosphere. · Beneath what should have been an ordinary sky. · Yet the figure was looking directly at him. · Lucian raised one hand. · The figure raised its own. · Their hands aligned across the impossible distance. · Then the figure pointed downward. · At Lucian. · And the second sky vanished. · The normal sky returned. · Blue. · Quiet. · Ordinary. · Lucian remained frozen. · His heart began beating again. · Once. · Twice. · Then violently. · He stumbled backward. · The room suddenly felt too small. · He looked toward the window. · Nothing. · He ran outside. · The street was normal. · People were walking. · Lights were turning on. · Someone was arguing with a shopkeeper. · A dog barked. · Nobody was looking upward. · Lucian grabbed the nearest person. · "Did you see that?" · The man pulled his arm away. · "See what?" · "The sky." · The man looked upward. · "It's a sky." · "No. Before that." · "What before?" · Lucian couldn't answer. · He looked around. · Nobody seemed to know. · He went back inside. · His hands were shaking. · He tried to convince himself that it had been a hallucination. · Stress. · Lack of sleep. · The examination. · Anything. · He sat at the table. · His breathing slowly steadied. · Then something tapped against the window. · Lucian looked up. · Nothing. · Another tap. · This time from the desk. · He turned. · A small object lay beside his father's old notebooks. · It hadn't been there before. · Lucian approached slowly. · It was a rectangular piece of metal. · Black. · Cold. · No larger than his palm. · There was no visible mechanism. · No symbol. · No writing. · He touched it. · The metal immediately became warm. · A thin line of light appeared across its surface. · Lucian pulled his hand away. · The object opened. · Not physically. · The surface unfolded into light. · Letters appeared above it. · Lucian stared. · The message was short. · Only one sentence. · He recognized the handwriting immediately. · His father's handwriting. · The handwriting he had seen in old journals. · The handwriting he had spent eleven years trying to forget. · Lucian's throat tightened. · The message read: · IF YOU CAN SEE THE SECOND SKY, DON'T LET THEM KNOW. · He read it again. · Then again. · His hands became cold. · There was a second line. · It had not been there before. · New letters appeared slowly. · One by one. · Lucian watched them form. · YOUR FATHER DID NOT DISAPPEAR. · Lucian stopped breathing. · Another line appeared. · HE WENT UP. · The light flickered. · Then one final sentence appeared. · Lucian stared at it. · He read it once. · Then twice. · And on the third reading, his entire understanding of the world collapsed. · LUCian, IF YOU ARE READING THIS, THEY HAVE ALREADY FOUND YOU.