Chapter 8 : Summer and Shadows
"I'm back, everyone," Paul announced as he stepped into the great hall, still carrying the dust of travel on his boots.
Ashley looked up from the training roster with a tired smile. "You caught five out of eight already," she said. Pride and worry braided in her voice.
Paul's face hardened. "Something is wrong, Ezra."
The Grand Alchemist folded his hands, frowning. "What happened?"
"We found Frostgard in Calanthor Realm instead of Zenithor Realm," Paul said. He turned to the massive, wolf-like beast at his side. "Frostgard, tell them what you told me."
Frostgard's hoarse rumble filled the room. "Someone is hunting us. They've taken three Realm Beasts already."
Kyle's brow knit. "Someone who isn't Head of Creations is taming them?"
Stellavore's scales chimed softly as she shifted. "No," the dragon corrected. "Frostgard did not say 'tamed.' They hunt, not tame."
Valot's expression grew grave. "No realm leader would dare take on a Realm Beast," he said. "Not alone."
"So who?" Ashley demanded.
Paul's eyes scanned the hall. He halted when he noticed Rahm — standing, bowed, apologetic. "Why are you kneeling, Rahm?"
Nick — called Rahm by some and Nick by others — straightened and offered a stiff bow. "Showing my respect, my king."
Kyle's voice cracked into a laugh that was more confusion than humor. "Did he just call him Rahm?"
Paul's glance darted toward the empty air beside the throne. "Why isn't Sai here yet?"
Ezra shook his head. "Have you forgotten, my king? Sai can't open a portal yet."
"Go pick him up, Valot." Paul's command left no room for argument.
Valot inclined. "Yes, my king."
Kyle muttered to himself, face hardening. "Someone is hunting Realm Beasts."
"Focus on your training for now," Paul snapped. "Everyone, to the training room."
"Where will you train?" Ashley asked.
Paul looked at his companions and named them one by one. "I will be training with Stellavore, Flameheart, Frostgard, Ombra, and Felldor. You too." He offered Stellavore a nod.
"A pleasure to spar with the king," the dragon purred, an amused curl in her voice.
---
When Sai and Valot arrived at Aethoria, Sai's eyes darted around the courtyard. "Where is everybody? What's that sound?"
Valot's gaze followed the rumble. "The king is sparring with Realm Beasts."
Sai paled. "They almost killed him the last time they faced off."
Paul saw them and waved. "Hey, Sai."
"Welcome back," Paul said when Sai closed the distance. Paul's expression softened. "Thank you. Actually…I want to tell you something, Paul."
Paul cocked an eyebrow. "Yeah? What is it?"
Sai swallowed, uneasy. "About my emblem. You said something about regrowing it."
Paul nodded. "Yes. But that's up to you. I can collect the other half from your cousin — though he's likely to die for it."
Sai's jaw tightened. "I want to regrow it."
Paul's tone was clinical and kind at once. "Then you need to do two things: experience fun, and experience pain."
Sai blinked, absorbed the words. "As for pain…"
Paul cut in gently, "I know you've already experienced it. So that leaves fun."
An announcement chimed through the hall: everyone to the chambers.
Ezra stood to address them, the worry now a steady shadow behind his eyes. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I believe I know who's behind the hunting of the Realm Beasts."
Valot's voice was a dry whisper. "Underworld devils."
"Devils?" Kyle echoed in disbelief. "I thought you said no one could hunt them."
Ezra drew a slow breath. "There are worlds outside ours. They can hunt beasts and probably use them for foul means."
Paul stepped forward. "Which devil has them now?"
Ezra admitted what little he knew. "I don't know for certain. Our insiders say the underworld is in chaos."
Ashley frowned, drawing the syllables out. "So whoever took Pulsar, Mythol, and Mara wants to win their little war."
Paul shook his head slowly. "I don't think it's little. The history books say the underworld has four leaders."
Ezra counted them on his fingers. "Ukoballon—strongest lord. Valefar—wisest lord. Cremoneth—wildest lord. Valecton—dream lord."
Valot's tone was blunt. "Each ruler could destroy an entire realm."
Paul glanced around the circle. He saw the temptation in the eyes of some, the calculated thought in the faces of others. "So you want me to use the chaos to seize the underworld for ourselves?"
The air cooled. A voice — older, venomous — cut through the gathering like a blade. "You will die, my king."
All heads snapped toward the speaker. The Usurper stood at the edge of the chamber as if she had never left, the air around her thin and humming with dangerous promise.
Kyle's hand went reflexively to his side. "How did you enter the castle without me sensing your presence?"
Ezra's face flared red. "How dare you speak such words to our king."
Paul raised a hand. "Enough, Ezra." He turned to the Usurper. "Any suggestions? This won't end like last time."
The Usurper's smile was slow and cunning. "I am here to provide ideas, my king. Why don't you join forces with each of them?"
"Sai?" Valot echoed with wide eyes.
"Join forces?" Sai repeated, incredulous.
"Yes," the Usurper said. "Each of us will join forces with them, then betray them."
Valot's reaction was immediate and firm. "I disagree."
Ezra's voice tightened. "It's dangerous."
Ashley's tone was sharp with distrust. "You heard them, Usurper."
Paul's stare held the Usurper in place. "So how are we going to take them?"
Nick — Rahm — stepped forward, voice low. "Nighma."
Ezra's face crumpled. "What did you just say?"
"'Nighma' — that was his name," Nick insisted.
Paul looked at Ezra. "Do you know him?"
Ezra swallowed. "Yes, my king. Former lord of the underworld."
A chill slid over everyone like a cold hand. "Do you think it's possible he's behind all this?" Paul asked.
Ezra nodded. "Yes. Probably him, perhaps with the rulers."
Paul turned to Sai. "When I come back, for now you and I must go somewhere."
Ezra inclined his head. "Enjoy yourself, my king."
---
Summer days unfurled with the lazy ease of vacation. A portal opened, bright and casual, and Paul stepped through into a familiar street.
"Sai!" Sakura called, waving him toward the group. "Hey — over here."
Sai smiled, voice warm. "You look beautiful."
Sakura blushed. "Thank you."
Akira — Nakahara Akira — introduced herself to Paul, the exchange polite and quick. Paul returned the greeting with ease. "Paul Kirman Stark. Nice to meet you too."
Sakura tugged at Sai's sleeve. "Let's go." She sounded genuinely delighted, and Paul caught Sai's soft smile in response.
For the next weeks the group did what young people do best: they explored the city, tried new foods, and let themselves be lazy and reckless under the generous sun. They spent a day at the beach, playing volleyball and diving into the waves, laughter trailing behind them like bright flags.
"Hey," Akira said one evening, "there's a rooftop restaurant. Want to check it out?"
Sakura nodded. "Sure."
Paul watched Sai watch Sakura with the curious, private amusement of a friend who knows half the truth. After a long day, Akira stammered, words collapsing. Paul only smiled and joined the group.
On the fourteenth day, as they strolled the riverbank in the gold wash of sunset, Sai turned and opened his mouth, then an old woman's shriek cut through the air.
"There! That man just stole that old lady's bag." Akira's voice was sharp.
Sai pushed forward. "Return the bag, you thief."
Before a scuffle could start, a portal winked open and Paul appeared behind the thief like a shadow given flesh. He moved with such speed and casual authority that Sakura's eyes widened.
"Wow — you're a fast runner," she said, breathless.
Sai handed the woman back her bag. "Here you go, ma'am. What were you thinking, opening a portal in the middle of the road?"
Paul shrugged, embarrassed by the attention. "Chill out. Nobody else can see it anyway — except you lot."
The old woman's gratitude warmed the group. Conversation resumed easily. Sakura teased Sai about something he was about to say before the theft, and he shrugged it off, cheeks coloring faintly.
Later, they prepared to return home and Paul shared a small jest. "You should have told her. You like her."
Sai's answer was honest, small: "I'm going to fight a war, and I don't know if I'll die or not."
Paul clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't worry. No one is going to die."
Sai was quiet for a moment. "I already told my dad about the war."
"He's still in prison, right?" Paul asked.
"Nine more years," Sai said.
Paul's voice was light, falsely easy. "By then you should have given him grandkids."
Sai allowed himself a short laugh. "Sure."
When their two weeks ended, a portal bore them home. Aethoria welcomed them with the cool hush of old stone, and Ezra greeted Paul with a grin as he entered. "Welcome back, my king. How was your two-week break?"
"Fine," Paul answered. "Prepare a feast. We'll celebrate tonight."
And so they did. Laughter and the clatter of plates filled the dining hall as the household of Creations shared food and drink. At last, with the candles guttering and the last of the wine poured, Paul turned attention to Maria Badway.
"Maria Badway," he invited. "Tell us your story. Why did you run from Calanthor Realm?"
Maria's face folded like paper. "I'm sure you don't want to hear it," she answered, voice brittle.
Ezra's hand stilled on his goblet. "There's no story we wouldn't want to hear."
Maria took a breath and plunged them into the past.
Twelve years ago she had met a man named Light. They fell in love, a dangerous transgression for a sister of the Nightworshipers. They met in secret, every stolen night a fragile blessing. One evening the priestess discovered Maria's betrayal. Sentence: death.
"Tomorrow," Light had said, voice low and urgent, "they will judge us. Let's go. Let's leave."
"Where will we go?" Maria whispered. "The Nightworshipers will find us."
"Back to my home world — Earth," Light promised. He moved too quickly, desperation making him clumsy. "They've caught up to us. I will close the gate. Go. Live there. I'll… I'll keep them busy."
He summoned a terrible power. With the final, wrenching effort of an Elemental Release — Dimensional Teleportation — Light opened the gate and pushed Maria through. She reached a trembling hand back, but he had already begun to fall into the maw of the closing portal.
"Someone needs to close it," he said, voice cracking. "Don't worry. I love you. Earth will be good to you."
Maria screamed as seams of reality stitched shut and the man she loved was wrenched away. She landed on Earth and never saw him again. The memory broke her voice mid-sentence; her shoulders shook with grief as she finished.
"That's my story." She wiped her face, the small sounds of the hall reduced to a hush of sympathy.
Ashley leaned forward, voice soft. "Don't cry. I'm sure Light is happy that you're alive."
Outside, the candles flickered. The evening's ease was a thin veneer; beyond it, the world thinned into danger. An alarm of a different kind — not of training or politics but of reality itself — shivered in the air.
Dimensional gates are not quiet things. Somewhere beneath the earth, something answered.
Valefar's voice filtered into their ears like a chill wind. "It's time to set the timer."
The hall fell into silence.
To be continued...