The Night of the Twin Moons

The cave offered shelter, but not comfort.

Faint torchlight flickered across uneven stone, casting elongated shadows that moved like specters against the walls. Outside, the jungle whispered and howled, filled with the sounds of nocturnal life awakening beneath the glow of Astashica's twin moons.

Tlandar sat near the fire, his arms resting on his knees. His eyes followed the slow movement of Akashma's hands as she carefully sorted supplies—a precise, deliberate ritual. Even now, in the depths of the jungle, she remained disciplined, controlled.

He exhaled slowly, breaking the silence. "So, where exactly are you taking me?"

Akashma paused for a brief moment, then resumed her task. "To the Sanctum of Orchids."

Tlandar blinked, recognizing the name. "That's Salgar's domain."

She nodded. "It is more than that. It is where your training will begin."

The Path Ahead

Akashma's voice was steady, her words measured and absolute. "Chieftain Salgar will train you in all aspects of war, diplomacy, and command. You will learn to pilot mechs and ships, to navigate the chaos of battle, and to wield influence as well as a weapon. Everything necessary to fulfill your role."

Tlandar frowned slightly, leaning forward. "And what is my role exactly?"

She met his gaze, her amber eyes reflecting the firelight. "To serve Salgar. To serve Astashica."

Tlandar held her stare, his expression unreadable.

She continued, her tone unwavering. "You are not just a survivor, Tlandar. You have a purpose. You have walked through the door that fate has opened for you, and now you must embrace what lies beyond it."

Tlandar exhaled through his nose. "And if I refuse?"

Akashma did not smile, nor did she waver. "Then you are a fool."

Silence settled between them.

Tlandar let the words sink in, rolling them over in his mind. He wasn't angry. He wasn't even surprised.

He was listening.

The Ancient Whispers

Akashma picked up a dried ration pack, unwrapping it as she continued.

"There is more at stake than just this war." Her voice lowered slightly. "You have heard of the Ancient Archons."

Tlandar nodded. "Of course. They were myths. A forgotten race."

Akashma tilted her head slightly. "So you believe."

He studied her carefully. "You're saying they weren't myths?"

She tossed him a ration bar, which he caught absently. "I don't know. But Salgar has reason to believe their influence still lingers."

Tlandar narrowed his eyes. "What reason?"

Akashma exhaled, glancing at the cave's entrance, as if measuring how much to reveal. "She has seen patterns in history—cycles repeating, forces shifting in ways that cannot be explained. There are powers that move unseen across Astashica, and if the Archons were real, then their legacy did not vanish."

Tlandar let that settle. He was no historian, but he had heard stories from old traders, legends passed down in whispers.

But he hadn't expected Akashma to take them seriously.

The Siluran Mystery

Then, she hesitated. A rare flicker of uncertainty crossed her face.

"There is something else."

Tlandar raised an eyebrow. "Something you're not sure about?"

Akashma glanced at him but did not answer immediately. She shifted slightly, her posture still composed, but her next words carried an edge of curiosity—of mystery.

"Salgar has spoken of the Siluran Kingdom. Of the Siluran beings beneath the sea."**

Tlandar sat up straighter. He had heard of the Siluran Kingdom before, but only in passing—a distant power shrouded in secrecy.

Akashma continued. "Salgar believes something is hidden in the depths of the Siluran Sea. Something ancient. Something powerful."

Tlandar's brows furrowed. "What is it?"

Akashma shook her head. "Even she does not know. But she has reason to suspect that it holds answers—perhaps to the war, perhaps to something greater."**

Tlandar stared into the fire. This was more than just a political conflict. It was deeper. Older.

Something about it unsettled him.

The Jungle Stirs

A distant sound cut through the night.

A howling, but not the kind that belonged to a predator. It was reptilian, layered with deep vibrations, echoing through the thick foliage.

Tlandar glanced toward the cave entrance.

Akashma remained still. "The Zar'Kael."

Tlandar recognized the sound now. It was not a call of aggression, but one of presence. A signal among their kind.

Still, something about it made his chest tighten slightly.

Akashma observed him. "You're uneasy."

He exhaled slowly. "I don't fear them. But that doesn't mean I like hearing them in the middle of the night."

She smirked. "Good. Fear makes you cautious. But understanding removes hesitation."

Tlandar let out a quiet breath, listening as the howls faded back into the jungle.

The Vigil Under the Twin Moons

For a time, they sat in silence, watching the fire dance between them.

Tlandar rolled his shoulders, adjusting against the cool stone behind him. "How far do you think we are from the ship?"

Akashma exhaled through her nose. "I don't know."

Tlandar looked at her, surprised by the admission. "Really?"

She smirked slightly, but there was no concern in her voice. "We diverted from the original route. The terrain is unfamiliar."

Tlandar's lips pressed together. "You're lost."

Akashma didn't even blink. "No. I will find the ship. That is the difference."

Tlandar let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "Confidence is a dangerous thing."

She simply gazed up at the sky. "Not when it is earned."

Tlandar followed her gaze.

Above them, the twin moons of Astashica shone brilliantly, their pale silver light cascading across the jungle, washing over the trees like a dream.

Even in the midst of uncertainty, it was beautiful.

Tlandar exhaled slowly. "I never really looked at them before."

Akashma tilted her head slightly. "Most don't. But they are always watching."

Tlandar thought about that for a moment, letting the weight of the words settle.

Then, without hesitation, he leaned back against the stone wall, allowing himself to rest—but never fully sleep.

Tomorrow would bring a new trial. A new path.

And for the first time, he was ready to walk it.