The year that followed was unlike anything Ren had ever experienced.
Every morning, he woke before dawn and climbed to the highest point of the floating island peak so narrow that only three people could stand on it at once. There, with the wind tearing at his clothes and the clouds spreading endlessly below, he trained.
Not with weapons. Not yet.
His mother had been clear about that.
Your father could destroy stars with a thought. But he didn't start there. He started with control. With feeling. With understanding. If you try to run before you can walk, you'll burn yourself out. Or worse.
So, Ren sat on that peak every morning, legs crossed, eyes closed, and felt.
The energy was easier to sense now. It flowed through him constantly, a river of power that originated from the cosmic core somewhere deep in his chest. But feeling it and controlling it were two different things.
"Breathe."
His mother's voice came from behind him. She'd started joining him on the peak most mornings, not to train she had no cosmic power of her own but to guide. To remind. To be present.
"I am breathing," Ren said without opening his eyes.
"You're breathing like a normal person. That's not enough." She sat beside him, her presence warm and familiar. "Your father once told me that cosmic energy responds to breath. To the rhythm of life itself. When you breathe shallow, the energy flows shallow. When you breathe deep when you breathe like the universe is breathing through you the energy responds in kind."
Ren adjusted his breathing. Slower. Deeper. Drawing air into the deepest parts of his lungs, holding it, releasing it in a long, controlled stream.
The energy responded.
It swelled within him, filling not just his core but every cell, every fiber of his being. For a moment just a moment he felt what his father must have felt. Limitless. Boundless. Like he could reach out and touch the stars.
Then the feeling faded, and he was just a boy on a mountain again.
"Better," Sara said. "Much better. You held it for almost three seconds."
"Three seconds?" Ren opened his eyes, frustration flickering across his face. "Three seconds after a year of training?"
Sara smiled. "Your father trained for fifty years before he could hold his full power for three seconds. You're ahead of schedule."
Ren stared at her. "Fifty years?"
"The cosmic warriors of the Twelve Galaxies train for centuries, Ren. Some of them have been alive for thousands of years. You're seventeen. You've been actively training for twelve months. The fact that you can access your power at all is remarkable."
Ren looked down at his hands. They looked normal. Human. But he could feel the energy pulsing beneath the skin, waiting.
"Twelve months," he repeated. "The ruins said we had a year. Maybe less."
Sara's expression didn't change, but something flickered in her eyes. "I know."
"Have you felt it? The energy changing?"
She was quiet for a moment. Then: "Yes. The readings from my equipment have been fluctuating for weeks. The ruins are... quieter now. Like a heartbeat slowing down."
Ren stood, walking to the edge of the peak. Below, the floating islands stretched toward the horizon, connected by their bridges of vine-rope, dotted with the homes of people he'd known his entire life. Kaelen's family. Old Mira. Young Torvin at the market stall.
They didn't know.
None of them knew that the boy they'd watched grow up was something else entirely. That the quiet teenager with the silver-streaked hair carried a power that could shake galaxies. That their peaceful world was about to become a target.
"When the ruins fail," Ren said quietly, "what happens to Elarion?"
Sara joined him at the edge. "I don't know. The energy here has always masked us not just you, but the whole planet. When that masking fails..." She shook her head. "The Lords have scouts. Probes. Agents scattered across the universe. Eventually, one of them will notice a previously undetectable planet. And when they investigate..."
"They'll find me."
"They'll find evidence of your father. The ruins. The energy signature. And they'll start asking questions." She put a hand on his shoulder. "Questions that lead to you."
Ren was quiet for a long moment. The wind whipped around them, cold and clean.
"How much time do we really have?"
Sara's grip tightened. "A few months. Maybe less. The energy readings are dropping faster than I anticipated."
"Then we need to leave sooner."
"I know."
"Before the masking fails completely. Before they can trace us."
"I know, Ren." Her voice was soft. "I've been making preparations. There's a ship old, but functional hidden in the caves beneath the northern continent. I've been stocking it for months. Supplies. Equipment. Everything we'll need."
Ren turned to look at her. "You've been planning this?"
"Since the day we arrived on Elarion. I always knew this day would come. I just..." She smiled, and this time the sadness was impossible to hide. "I just hoped it would come later. When you were older. When you were ready."
"I'm ready, Mom."
"Are you?" She searched his face. "Ready to leave everything you've ever known? Ready to face beings who've killed gods? Ready to travel across galaxies where every shadow could hide an enemy?"
Ren thought about it. Really thought about it.
He thought about Kaelen, his only real friend, who would never understand why Ren had to leave. He thought about the market, the floating islands, the only home he'd ever known. He thought about the life he could have a simple life, a peaceful life, growing up on Elarion and eventually taking over some trade or craft.
Then he thought about his father. Standing alone against five gods. Fighting to give his son a chance to live.
"No," Ren said finally. "I'm not ready. But I don't think I ever will be. And waiting won't make the Lords any less dangerous."
Sara stared at him for a long moment. Then, slowly, she smiled.
"You sound like him, you know. Your father." She pulled him into a hug, holding tight. "He used to say the same thing. 'Waiting won't make them less dangerous, Sara. Only I can do that.'"
Ren hugged her back. "When do we leave?"
"One week. There are people you need to say goodbye to. And there's one more thing you need to learn before we go."
The thing Ren needed to learn was in the ruins.
They returned the next day, descending through the clouds to the southern continent, walking through the circle of ancient structures to the central spire. But this time, they didn't stop at the bottom.
This time, they climbed.
The spire's interior was a spiral staircase carved from the same glowing stone as everything else. It wound upward for what felt like miles, past chambers filled with more statues, more symbols, more echoes of a civilization long dead. And at the very top where the spire had been broken off millennia ago, they found a platform open to the sky.
In the center of the platform stood a pedestal.
And on the pedestal, a crystal.
It was the size of Ren's fist, perfectly clear, and it pulsed with light that matched his heartbeat exactly.
"What is it?" Ren asked.
"A memory crystal," Sara said. "Your father's people used them to store knowledge battles, techniques, histories. This one contains something specific." She touched the crystal gently. "His final message. For you."
Ren approached the pedestal slowly. The crystal pulsed brighter as he drew near, responding to his presence, his power, his blood.
"How does it work?"
"Touch it. And be ready for anything."
Ren reached out. His fingers brushed the crystal's surface.
And the world dissolved.
He stood in space.
Not floating standing, as if on an invisible platform, surrounded by stars that burned in colors he'd never imagined. And in front of him, impossibly large yet somehow human-sized, stood his father.
Kael Vortanis.
He looked exactly as Ren had always imagined. Tall. Powerful. Eyes that glowed with the light of dying stars. But there was softness there too gentleness that the visions had never shown.
Hello, my son.
Ren tried to speak, but no words came.
I know you can't answer. This is just a memory recording. But I needed you to see this. To hear this from me, not from fragments or secondhand accounts. Kael smiled, and it was like watching the sun come up. You're probably scared. That's okay. Fear is natural. Fear keeps us alive. The only thing you should never fear is yourself.
He gestured, and the space around them shifted. They were standing on a planet Nowa world of red deserts and purple skies, with two moons hanging overhead.
This is where I trained. Vortanis Prime, my home world. Destroyed now. The Lords made sure of that when I refused to serve them. His expression darkened. They offered me a place among them, you know. A seat on the council of the Twelve. All I had to do was help them destroy one more rebellious world. Just one.
Kael shook his head.
I said no. And they burned my home world to ash.
The scene shifted again. Now they stood on a battlefield, surrounded by the bodies of beings Ren couldn't identify. Warriors. Thousands of them. All dead.
After Vortanis fell, I swore revenge. I gathered allies. I built an army. For three hundred years, we fought the Twelve. We freed seventeen galaxies from their control. We killed three of their Lords and wounded four more.
The scene shifted to a throne room. Twelve thrones. But only eight figures sat on them.
We were winning. We were actually winning. And then...
The scene shifted one last time. To a chamber Ren recognized. The central spire on Elarion. But younger. Newer. Filled with warriors training, laughing, living.
I found this place. A refuge for those who opposed the Twelve. A training ground for warriors who would one day finish what we started. I brought your mother here, after we met. After we fell in love.
Kael's voice softened.
I never expected to fall in love, Ren. I was a warrior. A killer. Love was a weakness I couldn't afford. But your mother... she showed me that love isn't weakness. It's the only thing that makes strength mean anything.
The scene faded to darkness. Kael stood alone, illuminated by a single point of light.
When the Five came for me, I knew I couldn't win. Not against all of them at once. But I could make sure you survived. I could make sure you had a chance. He stepped closer, and for a moment, it felt like he could actually see Ren. Like the recording was somehow alive. I scattered my soul across the universe. Twelve fragments, hidden in the most dangerous places I could find. Each one contains a piece of my power, my knowledge, my memory. Find them, and you'll become what the Twelve fear most.
He reached out, and though he was just light and memory, Ren felt something brush his cheek.
I love you, my son. I've loved you since before you were born. I'm sorry I won't be there to see you grow. I'm sorry I won't be there to fight beside you. But know this: every step you take, every battle you win, every fragment you recover... I'll be with you. In your blood. In your power. In your heart.
The light began to fade.
Finish what I started, Ren. Free the galaxies. And when you finally face the Twelve... make them remember my name.
The darkness swallowed everything.
Ren woke on the platform, tears streaming down his face.
Sara was there, holding him, saying nothing. She'd watched the message too, years ago. She knew what it contained.
"He loved you," she whispered. "More than anything. More than life."
Ren nodded, unable to speak.
They sat there for a long time, mother and son, on the broken spire above the ruins. The sun set, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple. The first stars appeared, cold and distant.
Somewhere out there, twelve fragments waited.
Somewhere out there, the Lords who'd killed his father sat on their thrones, unaware that their doom was growing.
And somewhere in the vastness between galaxies, the Five Powerhouses continued their endless patrol, hunting for any sign of the prophecy's child.
Ren wiped his tears and stood.
"One week," he said. "Then we leave."
Sara nodded. "One week."
They descended from the spire together, leaving the crystal behind. Its light faded slowly, joining the pulse of the dying ruins.
The countdown had begun.
The next six days passed in a blur.
Ren said goodbye to the places he'd loved: the peak where he'd trained, the forests where he'd played as a child, the market stalls where he'd spent countless mornings. He said goodbye to Kaelen, though he couldn't tell him the truth.
"I'm leaving," Ren said simply, standing at the edge of the floating island where they'd spent so many hours.
Kaelen's face fell. "Leaving? Leaving Elarion?"
"My mother got a job on another planet. Research stuff. We have to go."
"When will you be back?"
Ren looked at his friend. At the round face and curious eyes. At the innocence that would never survive in the universe beyond.
"I don't know," he said honestly. "Maybe never."
Kaelen was quiet for a long moment. Then, with the wisdom of someone who understood loss better than he should, he nodded.
"Then we'd better make this goodbye count."
They spent the day together fishing from the sky-platforms, exploring caves they'd discovered years ago, eating honey bread from Old Mira's stall. They didn't talk about Ren leaving. They just... were.
When evening came, they stood at the bridge that connected their island to the next.
"Take this," Kaelen said, pressing something into Ren's hand. A small carving a sky-bird, wings spread, ready to fly. "So, you don't forget."
Ren looked at the carving, then at his friend. "I could never forget you, Kaelen."
They hugged, quick and awkward, the way boys that age do.
Then Ren walked across the bridge, and didn't look back.
The morning of departure arrived cold and clear.
Ren stood in front of their home, watching the sunrise one last time. The sky-skiff waited nearby, loaded with everything they could carry. His mother was inside, doing one final check of their supplies.
In his pocket, Ren's fingers touched the sky-bird carving.
"You ready?"
He turned. His mother stood in the doorway, dressed for travel in practical clothes Ren had never seen before. She looked different younger somehow, or maybe just more alive.
"Yeah," Ren said. "I'm ready."
They climbed into the skiff and rose into the air. The floating island shrank beneath them, then the clouds swallowed it, and then there was nothing but sky.
The journey to the northern continent took several hours. They flew in silence; each lost in their own thoughts. Ren watched the world pass below the forests, the rivers, the ruins of the southern continent in the distance, and tried to memorize every detail.
The ship was hidden exactly where Sara had said. In a cave system beneath the northern ice, accessible only through a narrow channel that required precise flying. The skiff barely fit.
But there, in the cavern's depths, lit by the glow of Ren's own power, waited the ship.
It was old. Ancient, even. Its hull was scarred by micrometeor impacts and the ravages of time. But as Ren approached, he felt it resonance that matched his own.
"This was your father's," Sara said quietly. "His personal ship. He hid it here before... before the end."
Ren walked forward, placing his hand on the hull. The metal was warm beneath his touch, and for a moment, he could almost hear tithe echoes of a thousand battles, a thousand journeys, a thousand moments of his father's life.
"Does it have a name?"
"The Starfire."
Ren smiled. It was a good name.
Together, they loaded their supplies. The ship's interior was surprisingly spacious living quarters, a galley, a cargo hold, and a cockpit with seats for four. Everything was old but functional, maintained by the same energy that pulsed through the ruins.
When the last box was stowed, Sara turned to him.
"Once we leave Elarion' s atmosphere, the masking will start to fail faster. We'll have maybe a few hours before any probes in the area detect our energy signature. After that..." She shrugged. "We'll be running."
"Where do we go first?"
Sara pulled out a data slate, showing the map from the ruins. Twelve points of light, scattered across the galaxies. But one was closer than the others much closer.
"A planet called Xerath," she said. "In the outer rim of the Andromeda Galaxy. According to your father's records, the nearest fragment is hidden there."
"How far?"
"At maximum warp? About three months."
Ren nodded. Three months. Trapped in a small ship with his mother and his thoughts. Three months to prepare for whatever waited on Xerath.
"Then let's go."
They climbed into the cockpit. Sara took the pilot's seat, her hands moving across controls that seemed impossibly ancient. Ren sat beside her, watching as systems powered up, as the ship hummed to life, as the cavern's entrance slowly opened to reveal the sky beyond.
"Ready?" Sara asked.
Ren looked back, one last time, at the cave walls, the ice, the planet that had been his home for seventeen years.
"Ready."
The Starfire lifted off, rising through the cave, through the ice, through the clouds.
And then they were in space.
Elarion shrank beneath thema beautiful blue-green world, floating in the darkness like a jewel. Ren watched until it was too small to see, until the stars swallowed it completely.
Somewhere ahead, the first fragment waited.
Somewhere ahead, his destiny called.
The heir of the Twelve Galaxies had finally left home.
END OF CHAPTER 3