(Cyrus POV)
After leaving one of the hidden bases of the Slytharion clan, it took us about another day's worth of traveling to get to where the next Astral gate was supposedly plotted. During the travel, my father's disposition changed slightly. I could tell there was a lot going on in that head of his. The methodical and analytical nature that had helped him out so much throughout his life was now slowly overtaking him. I'm sure most of it dealt with the ancient Solaris relic—he was so close to achieving something he had wanted for years, only to realize he had a long way to go to fulfill it.
During this time, Solmane often stayed inside my father's celestial core trying to regain some of his strength from the past. Even though my father tried to play it off, I could tell that the compensation of energy Solmane required was a great deal. His breath became labored, and his brisk pace slowed as well, but my father endured.
When we finally made it to the gate, it seemed out of place in the vast open expanse of the astral world. But neither my father nor I cared about that. To us, it signaled that we were close to the end of this long and perilous journey. We were soon going to be reunited with my grandfather—someone I hadn't seen in several years, one of the people I adored the most in the world outside of my uncle.
My father led the way and passed through the gate first. But there was a stall in my step. I couldn't help but feel that I was a coward in this act of running from the situation. I knew who had led the massacre of my people, and that he potentially might have my uncle captive as well. I didn't like that I was abandoning him here, and that he was left alone with no one by his side. Like the rest of my clan, he didn't deserve what may have happened to him. "But there is nothing I can do now," I whispered to myself as I took one last long look at the astral realm again.
Stepping through the portal of the astral gate, I was immediately hit with the reality of what the physical realm was like. The crisp air was replaced with soot-filled clouds that populated the atmosphere. There was no longer the vibrant flora and fauna that saturated the entire astral realm; instead, there were large buildings encased with monotone grey exteriors of steel and concrete. It was the first true city I had seen since the day my father and I had left Arthenos. My return to normalcy—or at least I thought.
"You took a while to cross over. Is everything alright?" my father asked as he pulled over his hood that distorted his face.
"Yeah, I'm okay. It's just that it was a long time coming to get here. I feel so much has changed in the past couple of months. I just needed a moment to take it all in."
"I get that completely, Cy. A lot of things have changed, and a lot of things may still continue to change going forward. But as long as we stick together, we will be fine," my father reassured me as his large hand gently grasped my shoulder. "Come, let's go find a terminal and a place to stay."
My father and I ventured through the port city of Gavelon. It was a lot different compared to my old roots of Arthenos. Everything seemed to revolve around trades and the transporting of goods through ships and other forms of sea travel. From what my father told me, this was one of the main cities in the Zarathia continent not controlled by a major clan or guild. It acted similar to the neutral zones in the astral realm. The deeper we got into the city, the smell of saltwater flooded my nose, and the loud clangs of bells announcing the departure and arrival of ships muffled the sounds of citizens bustling around.
Right before we entered one of the inns, I noticed my father made an abrupt stop in the middle of the sidewalk a couple of meters ahead of me. His fingers were trembling slightly. I called out to him, but the loud traffic of the cars in the street drowned my attempts.
I hurried to his side immediately, wondering what could possibly cause his demeanor to change. He still didn't acknowledge me. I followed his gaze—his eyes were in an intense deadlock with one of the TVs in the windows of one of the small shops. There was breaking news: apparently, three rifts appeared in the middle of the ocean. It was a strange anomaly—apparently, it was extremely rare for two to appear right next to each other, let alone three. "Dad, what's the matter?" I asked as I tried to break the silent disposition of my father, grabbing his wrist.
"Grandpa Zaire is most likely en route heading straight for it."
"Well, that shouldn't matter. Isn't Grandpa at the same stage as you?"
"Grandpa hasn't fought in years, and I don't know how much he will be able to hold back his power and safely maintain the situation. One of them is a category three. That means Stellar Fiends are most likely present. Also, how will he close it and keep his main body safe while two other rifts are open?" he said back solemnly.
"Have faith, Dad. It's Grandpa, after all. He will manage. Even if he's rusty, I'm sure he will be more than capable. If you can hold off Stellar Fiends while holding back, I'm sure he can too. Besides, you know how he is—he doesn't like getting all close and personal when he fights. You're overthinking it. The hard part is over with now," I responded.
I understood my father's reasoning, but I also knew he was just worried out of fear of the impossible—which I don't blame him for. The impossible has been happening a lot recently.