From the moment he was born, Aion was groomed for a peaceful life.
As a prince, he had every luxury the kingdom could offer. Unlike other kids his age, he was taught by the best tutors, slept every night with a full belly in the softest bed, and never knew hardship. Yet even this privileged life had its downsides—at least to him.

One such downside was the future laid out for him since childhood: he was expected to become the head of the royal trade company. That meant endless voyages to distant continents... and a lifetime of battling motion sickness. On top of that, he’d be expected to negotiate with all kinds of people across Viarum, sealing deals for the good of the crown. The pressure of keeping the kingdom rich and secure rested squarely on his shoulders.

But his heart longed for something entirely different.

Aion was just twenty moons old when he was sent—reluctantly—on his first journey to the Continent of Eternal Deserts. The only comfort he found was in knowing that this trip was more of a learning mission than a true diplomatic one. No one expected him to make life-altering decisions just yet.

As the last of the three overstuffed trunks finally snapped shut, the doors to his chamber burst open. Only one person in the entire castle would dare barge in like that—his sister.

“Aion! All packed?” she said cheerfully. “Mother asked me to check if you’re ready to leave. Gods, I envy you. You finally get to escape these walls and see the world! You have no idea how tired I am of hairdressers and spinning in circles for tailors.”

She twirled dramatically past him and flopped onto his bed.

Aion clenched his jaw—he hated when people treated his room like their own, and Brina knew that.

“If you don’t stop gritting your teeth like that,” she teased, “you’re gonna need another trip to the dentist. You’ll end up with a whole row of golden teeth.”

“Blame the circumstances... and my lovely company.”

Aion considered himself a brave guy—at least until that one banquet where he tried to prove a point to cousin Kris using fists instead of logic. One wild right hook later, he’d lost a tooth, and Kris gained a crooked nose.

“I don’t see what’s so great about this whole ‘journey’ thing,” Aion muttered. “Sure, we’ve got five ships in the fleet, but I still get this sinking feeling. There’s way too much... stuff... living in those waters.”

“Don’t be such a coward, Aion!” Brina rolled her eyes. “You were blessed with a perfect Spark. Who else could be a better leader for the trade company? You don’t even need to breathe!”

She threw her arms in the air and flipped onto her back, beaming. “Compared to my Spark, yours is the most practical gift in all of Viarum! You’re basically un-drownable!”

Aion gave her a thoughtful look.

In Viarum, every child received a unique Spark—and with it, a black tattoo somewhere on their body—around the age of four moons. The trick was unlocking it. Some people died of old age without ever discovering what their Spark even was.

Aion’s own Spark awakened dramatically: he just stopped breathing. He was seven when it fully revealed itself. That day, he had been playing on the royal beach with other kids... and simply disappeared under the waves.

Everyone thought he had drowned. His mother, the Queen, panicked and roused the entire castle. But an hour later, they found Aion—peacefully asleep under the water, not far from where he’d gone missing. That’s when his father realized exactly how useful his son’s Spark could be... and decided his life would belong to the sea.

Brina, on the other hand, considered her own Spark useless—though most would argue otherwise. Her heart had become immune to pain and emotion. Though younger by only a few hours, it was she who would inherit the crown.

Brina didn’t cry. Ever. She stopped screaming the night Aion stopped breathing. She didn’t get angry or jealous. Despite her carefree energy, she was fair-minded and sharp. Nothing clouded her thoughts.

“I’m not afraid,” Aion said. “I just don’t have this burning need to go exploring like you do.” He glanced over the packed bags and trunks. “Seriously, where the hell am I even going?”

“I wish I could say to the ends of the earth,” Brina teased, “but nope. Just a short trip to the nearest continent. Couple moons of sailing, and you’ll be back. Easy.”

She hopped off the bed and looked him over. Her eyes sparkled. “Promise me something? Don’t shave while you’re gone. I wanna see how wild your beard can get.”

“Seriously? You want to give people another reason to laugh at the royal heir?” Aion groaned. “I’m already set to be head of the trade company. I don’t need the crew remembering me for my patchy beard.”

He muttered under his breath, “They already call me the Corpse.”

“Well... what else do you call a guy who doesn’t breathe?” Brina smirked. “They could bury you with a sack of crackers and you’d survive down there for, what, twenty days?”

She ran to the tall window. “Look at that view! So unfair. I only get to see the gardens.”

“Don’t give my enemies new ideas, Brina. These walls have ears.” He sighed. “The assassination attempts were bad enough.”

The harbor and city stretched out before them—truly breathtaking. But right now, it only made him feel sick. He would’ve preferred a view of birds or flowers.

Brina studied him silently.

“What?” he asked.

“I just realized I won’t see your face for a whole moon’s journey. I wanna memorize how you look.”

He rolled his eyes. Her odd behavior had long since stopped surprising him.

“We may’ve been born the same night,” Aion said, “but we couldn’t be more different. You take after Mom. I’m all Dad. Well... except for your silver hair and bronze skin. You’d be her twin if not for that.”

They’d noticed long ago how unalike they were. Brina’s coal-black hair made her stand out.

“Who knows how you’ll change after two moonpaths, brother?”

“It’ll be the same as always. Two moonpaths—that’s just a hundred days.” He tilted his head. “Brina, it’s time. I have to go. Sebastian! Carlos! Bring the luggage.”

“You’re not gonna help them?” Brina teased. She loved helping the servants just to poke at Aion’s pride. “You better get used to carrying stuff and sleeping on wooden boards. And don’t forget your noble manners!”

“No thanks,” he said. “You know how I feel about all the royal titles. There’s already a canyon between me and the people. I don’t want fancy words making it worse.”

“And what were you expecting?” she laughed.

“Comfort. And peace.”

Their back-and-forth was interrupted as the two servants entered. Aion gave Brina a pointed look—that was how you enter someone’s room, no matter their rank. He nodded to the servants to take the trunks, then moved to the window again.

Brina opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She left him to his thoughts.

He looked down at the busy streets.

Life was a strange thing.
Some people were given towers from which to watch the world. Others were given feet to run barefoot on stone roads.

He glanced down at his own feet—clean, untouched, soft. He had recently realized just how wide the gap between him and the rest of the world truly was—and how impossible it might be to ever cross it.

His eyes landed on the clock on the wall.

He hated that clock. And more than anything, he hated the very idea of time.
It told him when to wake, when to sleep. And now, it was telling him that time for idle thoughts was over.

Noon. Time to leave.