Before the Coming of the Infinite Darkness, the Souls of Light Shall Return.
Called forth are the blades of courage and valor, with silver wings and golden hearts, to the heavens they burn.
An excerpt from EDEN I: Summer
CHAPTER ONE
EREBUS
Embers choked the horizon, transforming Uoc, the island of Sky's home into a smoldering wasteland. Where gentle breezes and verdant fields once whispered the nostalgic songs of peace, only ash and a bloodstained sky now reigned. Storms ravaged the land—rocks of ash crashing down, spewing molten lava, while red lightning bled through the heavens. He never knew what caused it all—only that his mother had taken his hand, and in the chaos, they were hurried onto a ship bound for somewhere far away.
Never to return.
Sky watched this devastation from the ship meant to carry him and his fellow villagers across the sea. They had lost everything, and their only hope was a new home—a paradise they had only ever heard about.
Elysian.
A name talked about in hushed tones, a place too far to glimpse beyond the sea’s blue horizon. But now it was all they had left. In his mind, it was a place bathed in light, where golden streets and towering spires rose above fear, storms, and war.
He wanted to believe in it.
Needed to believe in it.
Even if Elysian wasn’t real, even if it was just a myth, it was enough.
It had to be.
In his mind, Elysian was a chance for his mother to find peace again, for her to teach in a place where children’s laughter filled the streets.
Sky stood by the porthole, eyes fixed on the endless dark, searching for any sign of land. He remained there despite his mother’s gentle warning “Stay close and be patient. We’ll arrive when the captain says so.” But he hated the waiting,. the not knowing was worst. His heart pounded in his chest as he imagined all the ways their voyage could end; one unlucky lightning strike, one hidden rock, one mistake, and it would all be over. He needed to know. He needed to see. If there was land, even the faintest hint of it, he wanted to be the first to find it. And should they crash into a rock, he wanted to see it coming, readying himself to draw his last breath and shut his eyes.
The clouds thundered, lightning flashed in blinding bursts, snapping Sky out of his thoughts. Rain and hail slammed against the ship’s hull. Every flash of lightning lit the night for a moment, only to plunge them back into chaos. His heart gave a sudden shudder as if he were shocked back into the world. The ship swayed at uneasy angles, enough to make him slip off his feet. He feared the worst, that the ocean would grab him by the arm and rip him away. It was enough to deter him away back to his mother's side.
He crouched down beside her, the two of them lost in the crush of the crowded ship. Around them, fear spread like a fever; faces pale from exhaustion, eyes wide with the same dread that gripped him. The endless black of the ocean loomed beyond, a place no human was ever meant to survive. But for him, it was worse. It carried a truth he always brushed aside but now could no longer ignore.
He didn’t know how to swim.
To fall into that abyss was death. He imagined sinking, chained to a cannon, the cold pressing closer with every breath as he was pulled down, the light above shrinking to nothing. The thought made him shiver. The crashing waves did nothing to ease his fear. Foam and salt that made its way in lashed against his face. He forced himself to breathe slowly, to stay steady, clutching the few possessions he still owned, what little of his life fit inside of his bag, and his mother’s hand. He gripped tightly. She squeezed back. In that small gesture, he found warmth again.
Sky shifted uncomfortably, wedged between his mother and the ship’s damp walls. Bodies pressed in on all sides in the dim lit space; men, women, children—each one with their own story of loss.
He couldn’t help but listen to the whispered conversations that floated through the darkness. They didn’t know how much time had passed; they had barely any food for the journey. If salvation didn’t come, the devil would, turning them against each other. Some wept silently, others whispered prayers to ancestors or to any god who might listen.
A man sitting nearby murmured softly to a woman beside him, his voice hoarse and heavy. "I should’ve stayed. I could’ve helped them. My brother… my sister…" His voice trailed off, swallowed by the constant groaning of the ship.
Awoman, rocking a small child in her lap, whispered a prayer to herself. "Please, don’t let him get sick. We’ve already lost so many. Please, let us reach land."
They had all left their worldly possessions behind, their friends, families, entire lives. Sky wasn’t the only one haunted by the faces of those he had lost.
His thoughts drifted to his grandmother, her absence like an anchor in his heart. She had been too old and frail to leave, spending her last moments by his grandfather’s grave. Sky could still picture her in his mind, waving as they pulled him away, the cries of goodbye lost in the chaos. ‘Goodbye, little dog,’ she would call him.
He had left her behind, just like so many others had left behind pieces of themselves.
He hated himself for it.
With each wave, the ship’s strength waned and shuddered, its’ fragile timbers straining against the ocean’s fury. The hull creaked, sharp cracks echoing through the night as if the ship itself were crying out in agony. Saltwater sprayed over the deck, soaking everything, while the violent sea slammed against the sides like a giant’s fist, threatening to tear the vessel in half. Every jolt told Sky that they were one wave away from being ripped apart and swallowed by the hungry black beneath.
Somewhere among the passengers, a man began to speak in a hushed voice, perhaps to keep the children calm, more likely to keep himself sane.
“They say men go mad on voyages like this,” he whispered. “That some leap overboard, swearing they see their loved ones call out to them. Others swim away claiming there’s food just out of reach, they drink the sea water thinking it’ll save them. That’s when you know it’s over for them.”
The listeners stayed quiet. Even the wind seemed to pause, as if to hear the rest. Sky said nothing, but the words settled heavy in his chest.
He held onto his sanity with all he had, resolved to become nothing like what the man described. It couldn’t happen to him; he wouldn’t let it. His mother, his people; they needed him to be strong.
Every lightning strike made his heart pound with dread, but he clung to the belief that they would survive. Maia looked at him and held to him tightly. "Don’t worry, my son," her voice trembled slightly, though she tried to hide it. "We’ll see home soon. The gods are with us. They have brought us this far, and they will lead us to safety. You must have faith, just as I do. Pray with me." Her fingers brushed the small pendant she always wore, a rosary of wooden beads, humble and unadorned. Its surface was polished by the passing of years and the touch of countless prayers. Sky had seen her clutch it every night before sleep, often asking him to pray with her. He had never taken it seriously, but now beneath the storm’s wrath, it seemed almost alive in her shaking hands.
She shut her eyes and murmured a long strong willed prayer. Even with with the storm raging around them, her voice did not waver, as if her very prayers were a cloak that would shield her from the world. Yet she had more than faith to guide her, for the vessel that had come to take them away bore the blue and golden crest of Elysian sails.
Above the passengers on the upper deck and bridge, the frantic yells and commands of Captain Zain matched the roar of the seas.“Reef the sails! Hold her steady!”
There were few crew, and even fewer soldiers on board. He commanded a frigate ship that had hurriedly been converted into a refugee vessel.
Zain had seen the island’s destruction from afar. Red skies spewing fire and ash, the land torn apart by chaos. Having witnessed the devastation, he had not waited for orders. He sent word to Elysian, calling for aid, and swore to save as many lives as he could, gathering refugees onto every ship that would sail. Only when the last vessel had departed did he allow his own ship to leave the burning island behind.
General Aleyn--his old ally-- had responded, promising to meet Zain at sea with reinforcements to guide them to safety.
The ship’s flight engines sat idle, rendered useless by the violent storms that churned the skies.
Zain had stayed on the water, where the seas—though treacherous—were safer than the lightning-riddled clouds above. They were supposed to be at sea for a week, but four had passed, drifting through the open ocean with no sign of the escort.
The storm was getting worse. Violent beyond their comprehension as if they were sailing in an eternal night.
The food and water were nearly gone; sleep came only in fleeting moments, stolen away whenever a wave struck to tear them from their briefest rest. Hope was all but lost.
Want to know what happens next?...
The freezing storm met him like a wall of knives. Rain slashed sideways, and the wind howled so fiercely he had to shield his face. On deck, no one noticed him; crew members ran obliviously past him as they were fighting to keep control. Seeing the outside in clear view for the first time he could see the peril in full view. The world beyond was a void without horizon, blanketed by a damp and suffocating white mist of salt. Through the blur of lightning and spray, he spotted Captain Zain gripping the railing, shouting orders over the roar of the sea. The compass dangled in his hand, its needle spinning wildly, mocking any sense of control. Another wave slammed into the ship, sending men sprawling across the deck, Sky grabbed a nearby railing just in time, the ocean’s pull threatening to hurl him overboard. The waters were relentless, pounding against him as he clung on with every ounce of strength he had. He braced himself, expecting another wave, but then, amid the chaos, the winds began to change. The mood of the world shifted, subtle but certain, as though the ship were being guided toward something.
“Captain.” a crewman shouted through the storm. “Maybe we should turn back, we’re not going to find them!”
Sky turned towards Captain Zain. The man stood firm against the wind, his coat and hair whipped about by the storm. For a moment, he didn’t answer, only stared into the dark horizon where the sea and sky blurred into one. He gazed at his compass, fingers moving over its glass for a moment until his frustrations broke through. He gripped it too tightly, and a faint crack cut through the sound of the wind. Realizing his mistake, he slipped it back into his pocket.
“We have to keep going.” Zain’s voice cut through the gale, coming out sharper than he intended He couldn’t afford to show hesitation. The crew hesitated but obeyed. Yet Sky could see the strain etched into the captain’s face, it wasn’t the booze that made his face all weary. He consulted his map, it was a blur of lines and ink. Each decision felt risky and he knew they were facing long odds. He forced his hands to steady. The refugees, his crew, they needed him to be certain…but Sky could see that beneath that scruffy surface was a man riddled with doubt. Every decision he made felt like it was his last.
If he led them into ruin, if the ship broke apart and the sea swallowed them whole… it would be his fault.
They should have met up with General Aleyn’s escort ship days ago, but the storm had thrown them off course, and now there was no sign of them.
He’d promised to bring them to Elysian, but every day, the weight of that promise grew heavier.
Would they accept the refugees, or would they turn them away, just like so many others?
He couldn’t know for sure.
But he knew he had to try.
Seeing his doubts made Sky think of his mother, he only wanted her to be happy. She was a teacher back in their native land. Her students would constantly cheer whenever she entered. She’d dedicated her life to helping the unfortunate and the downtrodden, and here she was, still staying strong as only a mother could.
Maybe in their new home she could find some place to teach, like she did before.
The thought of the future kept him going.
There was a pause in the waves.
The oceans calmed.
Had they made it?
Sky looked up, wondering why everything had changed. The ship still rocked beneath his feet, but the sea no longer felt malevolent. The silence spread quickly, unsettling and complete. It wasn’t just him who had noticed; the quiet drew the refugees from the hold below until they crowded the deck. The crew made no effort to stop them, how could they? They were as mesmerized as Sky was.
An air of confusion and awe swept over them, their thoughts turning heavy and still like ice forming on water. Sky felt a firm hand on his shoulder. His mother had found him.
“Sky! What were you thinking, going out on your own? God will have to try way harder than this to take you away from me.” Her voice was tight and on the verge of breaking. He turned to her and clung to her, both shivering from the damp wet and cold.
“I’m sorry, Mother,” he whispered. “I just wanted to know if we’ve made it, but I’m not sure if we have.” He directed her gaze towards the changing air around them.
She looked up, and her breath stuck in her chest, as if the sudden silence unnerved her as much as the storm had. Their vision now being blotted out by a blinding and unnerving fog.
Through the grey mist, shapes shifted in and out of view, but every time he thought he could see land clearly, the mist would thicken, swallowing it again. His skin prickled with a sensation he couldn’t shake, like invisible eyes were watching their every move.
The air was heavy, thick with moisture and something else—something Sky couldn’t name. The salty tang of the sea mixed with a faint, sour scent, like rotting plants. Every breath felt colder than the last.
He leaned forward, squinting into the thick fog that clung to the horizon. For a moment, there was nothing but the endless grey of the mist, swirling and shifting like smoke.
He caught a glimpse—just a shadow, distant and vague.
His heart skipped.
Was it land? Or just another trick of the storm?
A low rumble echoed in the distance, a sound too deep to be thunder. Sky’s skin prickled. He looked towards his mother, but her gaze was fixed on the horizon.
No one spoke.
A shadow, hovered on the edge of sight.
"Did we make it?" someone whispered behind him, but there was no relief in their voice.
The ship drifted closer. The shadow grew larger, its shape sharpening with each moment. Jagged cliffs rose out of the fog, black and broken, like the teeth of some forgotten beast. The waves, once violent and crashing, fallen to a strange calm— the silence was worse.
No wind, no birds, just the hollow sound of the ship’s creaking timbers, and the faint echo of distant waves crashing against rock. His gaze dropped to the water, and his stomach turned.
Beneath the surface, the skeletal remains of ships lay scattered like bones, their splintered masts rising from the water like the fingers of the dead.
"What is this place?" Someone uttered yet was met with silence. Most didn’t even seem to understand what they were looking at.
Sky’s heart thudded in his chest.
This island—it wasn’t Elysian. It wasn’t anything like the paradise they had dreamed of. It felt like a warning.
"Is this Elysian?" Sky asked.
"I don’t know." Maia shook her head. She let him observe the seas further and started asking around if anyone knew.
Sky watched as Zain stepped toward the bow, positioning himself where he could see everything ahead. Despite his efforts to hide the tremor in his hands and voice, it was clear the storm had shaken him. Still, they had made it through, and for the first time in weeks, the sea was calm. Soon they could reach the shore, search for supplies, make repairs and the people around him could get rest. Having been at sea for what felt like a lifetime, they were itching to put their feet on dry land.
Sky’s eyes scanned the shore, his mind surged with awe then disbelief at what lay before him.
The island was barren, lifeless. There was no sign of a harbor, no sign of life. The winds had Fallen eerily still. The waves only lapped gently against the hull as if guiding them in.
An uneasy chill settled over him, his mother felt the same way. Something about this place felt wrong.
They weren’t supposed to be here.
