Descendants

The Capital (3)

Kael quietly unpacked his belongings — a few shirts, a pair of boots, and a wooden box containing small mementos from home. He placed the box on the small shelf beside his bunk, then sat for a moment, running his hand across the smooth edge of the bed. The hum of the ship’s engines filled the room, steady and low, like a heartbeat beneath the floor.

Then a soft chime echoed through the halls, followed by a calm, authoritative voice over the intercom:

“Attention all passengers. We will now begin departure from Brimwell. Please remain in your designated rooms until the vessel reaches cruising altitude.”

Everyone in the room froze for a second before rushing to the window. Kael joined them, pressing his palm against the cool glass. Outside, the island of Brimwell slowly began to drift away. The grassy plains and farmlands looked smaller with each passing moment. Tiny specks—parents, siblings, friends—stood near the docks, waving as the ship rose higher.

A heavy silence filled the room.

No one spoke for a while. Each of them was lost in their own thoughts, watching their world fade beneath the clouds.

Niel was the first to break the silence. “It’s hard, huh? Leaving everything behind like that. My little sister wouldn’t even look at me when I said goodbye.”

One of the others sighed. “Yeah. I grew up with my cousins in the market. It’s strange to think I might never see them again.”

Kael kept his eyes on the horizon. “We all left something behind,” he said quietly. “But if we don’t do this… there might not be a home left to go back to.”

The others turned toward him. For a moment, no one said anything, but the truth in his words seemed to settle the room.

“Guess you’re right,” Niel murmured. “We’re not just leaving… we’re protecting them too.”

The tension eased a little. They all sat back on their beds, letting the moment sink in.

The boy with glasses—calm, observant, and a little reserved—adjusted his frames and spoke up. “Anyway, I’m curious about what kind of training we’ll have in the Capital. Anyone got any idea?”

Kael shook his head. “Not really. I’ve only heard rumors.”

“Well,” the boy said, leaning forward a bit, “I might have some answers. My cousin works as a cook in the palace, so I asked him before I left.”

That caught everyone’s attention. Even Kael turned fully to listen.

“He said the training will last for six months.”

“Six months?” Niel blurted out. “Isn’t that a bit short? We’re supposed to prepare for whatever’s down there!”

“Yeah,” another added. “You can’t even train a proper swordsman in six months.”

The boy with glasses nodded. “That’s what I thought too. I’m not sure about all the details, but my cousin told me that once we reach the Capital, we’ll be divided into teams. Each team will be led by a Captain — someone who’s really powerful.”

Kael frowned slightly. “Divided? Wouldn’t it make more sense to train everyone together? A large group is easier to manage and organize.”

Everyone murmured in agreement.

“True,” the boy replied, “but my cousin didn’t explain why. I asked, but he said it’s not something the palace staff are allowed to talk about.”

The room fell into thoughtful silence again. Only the steady thrum of the Aether engines filled the air.

Finally, Niel flopped back onto his bed with a sigh. “Well, whatever it is, I just hope we don’t end up with a grumpy Captain.”

That earned a few small laughs, even from Kael. The laughter was soft, uncertain—but it was enough to ease the heavy mood.

Outside, Brimwell had already disappeared beneath a veil of clouds. The ship’s lights glowed faintly against the deepening sky, and for the first time since departure, Kael realized how far from home he truly was.

He lay back on his bunk, staring at the faint lines of light running across the ceiling. His mind replayed his mother’s voice, his father’s parting words.

“Be strong.”

Kael closed his eyes, gripping the small pendant around his neck.

“For them,” he whispered. “I’ll be strong for them.”

The hours passed quietly inside the ship. One by one, everyone settled into their bunks. The soft hum of the engines, mixed with the occasional creak of the hull, became a lullaby for weary minds. Kael lay on his back, staring at the ceiling as the faint vibration of Aether energy pulsed beneath the floorboards.

Sleep didn’t come easily. His thoughts drifted between faces — his mother’s tearful smile, his father’s steady hand on his shoulder, and the endless horizon that now separated them.

Then, just as his eyes began to close, a clear chime echoed through the ship’s corridors, followed by the familiar voice over the speakers.

“Attention all passengers. Please proceed to the main hall immediately. All Descendants are to gather for the first official briefing.”

The room stirred to life.

Niel jumped down from his bed, rubbing his eyes. “Finally,” he muttered. “I was starting to think they’d keep us locked in here until we reached the Capital.”

Kael swung his legs over the side of the bunk and began straightening his jacket. The others followed suit, each trying to look a little more composed — though the nervous energy in the air was impossible to hide.

They followed the flow of other recruits through the corridors until they reached a massive set of doors engraved with the crest of Elyndra — wings spread wide around a radiant crystal. As the doors opened, the sight before them stole their breath.

The main hall was enormous — its arched ceiling shimmered with faint aetherlight, and banners bearing the Kingdom’s insignia hung proudly along the walls. Hundreds of young men and women stood in orderly rows, their expressions a mix of awe, fear, and determination.

Kael’s group slipped into one of the middle rows, whispering among themselves.

“What do you think they’ll talk about?” Niel whispered. “Training stuff?”

“Probably,” said the boy with glasses. “Or maybe… about the descent.”

“Descent?” another asked, eyes wide.

Kael stayed silent, his gaze fixed on the empty podium at the front.

Suddenly, a soldier in polished armor stepped up and shouted, his voice echoing through the hall.

“Attention!”

Every conversation stopped instantly. Hundreds of heads turned toward the podium.

The soldier continued, “Please listen carefully. The Captain will now address you and provide all necessary information about your training in the Capital.”

He stepped aside.

From the far side of the stage, a tall man walked forward — his long yellow hair catching the light of the aetherlamps. His uniform bore the crest of the Royal Guard, and his presence alone seemed to command the air around him. His movements were precise, his eyes sharp and unwavering.

When he reached the podium, silence fell so deep that even the engines seemed to quiet.

He rested both hands on the stand, scanning the faces before him — hundreds of young souls chosen to bear the weight of Elyndra’s future.

Then he spoke.

“Recruits of Elyndra…”

His voice was steady, powerful, filled with authority and something else — respect.

“You stand here today not as children of your homes, but as Descendants — chosen by fate, by courage, and by the will of our Kingdom.”

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle.

“For generations, our world has thrived above the clouds, sustained by the Aetherstone’s power. But that power is fading. You all know what that means. The islands tremble… the skies darken… and the Stormveil hungers below us.”

A few recruits shifted nervously, but his gaze kept them still.

“You have been called to restore what is dying — to descend through the veil and seek the Heart of the Sky, the only hope left to keep our Kingdom aloft. It is a task fraught with peril. The ground below is not a place of peace or safety. It is a world forgotten by time — and by reason.”

The hall was silent. Not a whisper, not a cough. Just the low hum of the ship and the Captain’s unwavering voice.

“Some of you may not return.”

His tone didn’t falter. It wasn’t cruelty — it was truth.

“But know this — every step you take, every breath you draw in the name of Elyndra, will echo in our history. You are not being sent to die. You are being sent to save.”

The tension in the room shifted — fear was still there, but it was joined by something fiercer. Resolve.

“From this moment forward, you will train under the Royal Guard. Six months of discipline, hardship, and awakening. You will learn not only how to fight — but how to endure.”

He straightened, his eyes sweeping over them one last time.

“You are the hope of the sky. The future of Elyndra rests in your hands.”

He raised his fist to his chest — a soldier’s salute.

“May the Aether guide your path… Descendants.”

The room erupted in a thunder of applause — not of celebration, but of conviction.

Kael stood among them, heart pounding. His fear didn’t vanish, but beneath it burned a quiet determination.

He wasn’t just leaving home anymore.

He was fighting to save it.