System's of Suffering

Into the Unknown

Zarath's lips curved faintly into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Straight to the point. I can appreciate that." He gestured toward the palace's towering entrance. "Come. There is much to show you."

Dax followed reluctantly, his boots clicking against the pristine surface of the landing platform. The palace loomed ahead, its crystalline walls refracting the pale light of Elythera's rings. It felt like walking into a dream—a dream that wasn't his.

---

The interior of the palace was even more overwhelming. Vast halls stretched endlessly, their floors gleaming like polished mirrors. Chandeliers hung like frozen waterfalls from impossibly high ceilings, and the air carried a faint, perfumed scent that made Dax's nose twitch. Everything here spoke of power and excess.

Zarath led him through the corridors, pausing occasionally to point out a piece of art or architecture. "This palace is more than just a home for the Soladren family," he explained. "It is a symbol. Every inch of it is designed to remind those who visit of the family's dominance."

"I get it," Dax muttered. "Big, shiny, and intimidating. Message received."

Zarath glanced at him, amusement flickering in his eyes. "And yet, you're here. Not intimidated, but curious. I wonder which will win out."

They stopped in front of a large set of doors. Zarath pressed his palm to a glowing panel, and the doors slid open silently, revealing a spacious chamber. The room was lavishly appointed, with walls of translucent panels that offered a view of Elythera's swirling atmosphere. A long table dominated the center, set with a meal more elaborate than anything Dax had ever seen.

"This will be your home during your time here," Zarath said. "You'll find everything you need within these walls. And beyond them, you'll find the tools to understand how this world operates."

Dax stepped inside, his bag still clutched tightly in his hand. "What's the catch?"

"No catch," Zarath replied, his tone unreadable. "Only the opportunity to learn. What you do with that knowledge is up to you."

Dax set his bag down, the weight of the day settling over him. He turned back to Zarath. "And Lyra? What's she supposed to learn?"

"Respect," Zarath said simply. "And perhaps... humanity."

With that, Zarath stepped back, the doors sliding shut between them. Dax stood alone in the opulent room, staring at the untouched meal and the shimmering view beyond. For a moment, he allowed himself to feel the excitement he'd tried to suppress. But beneath it, the guilt lingered, a reminder of the world he'd left behind.

——

Cressida Soladren stood on the observation deck of her palace, the vast expanse of Elythera's rings stretching out before her in a mesmerizing cascade of light and shadow. She held a crystal goblet in one hand, though the wine within it had gone untouched. Her gaze was fixed on the void beyond, her expression unreadable.

"You're unusually quiet," Zarath Marrel said, his cane tapping softly against the floor as he approached. "One might almost think you were worried."

Cressida's lips curved into a faint smile. "Worry is a luxury I cannot afford, Zarath. But I'll admit... I am curious."

"Curiosity is an excellent trait," Zarath replied, stopping beside her. "It suggests you understand the stakes of this experiment."

"Experiment," she echoed, her tone carrying a hint of amusement. "Is that what we're calling it now?"

"It's what it is," Zarath said. "A test of resilience, adaptability, and perspective. For both of them."

Cressida turned to face him fully, her eyes sharp. "And do you think they'll pass?"

Zarath's expression remained calm, contemplative. "Lyra is arrogant, entitled, and utterly unprepared for what she's walking into. But she is also intelligent and resourceful. Given the right pressure, she may surprise us."

"And Dax?" Cressida asked, tilting her head slightly.

"Dax carries anger with him," Zarath said. "A righteous anger that could consume him if he's not careful. But he's not just a fighter; he's a thinker. That makes him dangerous—and valuable."

Cressida studied him for a moment before turning back to the view. "The rebellion is growing. Even with this... exchange, there's no guarantee we can stem the tide. If this fails, the consequences will be... severe."

"Failures are often the most valuable teachers," Zarath said. "But I don't believe this will fail. Lyra and Dax are more alike than they realize. Both of them are outsiders in their own worlds, searching for something neither of them can define. This exchange may give them what they lack."

Cressida's gaze hardened. "Or it may break them."

"Perhaps," Zarath said, his tone mild. "But even broken pieces can be reforged into something stronger."

For a long moment, they stood in silence, the light of Elythera's rings casting soft, shifting patterns on the polished floor. Finally, Cressida lifted her glass, studying the deep red wine within before taking a measured sip.

"Keep an eye on them," she said. "I want to know everything. How they adapt. How they fail. How they... change."

"Of course," Zarath said, inclining his head. "It's what I do best."

Cressida's gaze remained on the void, her expression unreadable once more. "Let's hope it's enough."