The chat about their past year didn't last long. As warm as the reunion was, life in Prim moved quickly, and everyone had their daily duties to attend to. Still, they made plans to celebrate Shawn's homecoming in two days, with Lynne insisting on cooking his favorite dishes while the Captain offered to take them somewhere fun before the big feast.
Speaking of the past year, Shawn had noticed that time flowed differently in Prim. Unlike Earth, which had twelve months, Prim had ten. Each month consisted of exactly forty days, totaling four hundred days in a year. Even the daily rhythm was different—each day lasted a full thirty hours, split evenly between daylight and night. However, not all months shared the same balance. For example, Umbrin was known for its long, mysterious nights, where shadows lingered even under the noonday sun.
Time-telling devices were considered luxurious. Unlike Earth's wristwatches, Prim had no portable timepieces. Only medium-sized clocks existed, powered by intricate crystal cores and carved by artisan time-forgers. Despite their cost, Shawn's family owned one in each room, a testament to the Captain's status and Lynne's meticulous planning.
The ten months of Prim had distinct atmospheres and cultural significance:
Lunaris – The month of new beginnings. Soft breezes and early blooms marked this as a time of quiet growth and renewal.
Ignis – A vibrant, fiery month. Known for festivals, duels, and passionate declarations.
Floran – When life blossoms. Fields turn emerald and flowers flood the streets in petal parades.
Solven – Sun-kissed and warm, filled with travel, exploration, and tales by the riverside.
Draken – A storm-heavy month filled with legends. Lightning split the sky, and tales of dragons resurfaced.
Zephyrin – The winds of change swept through. A transitional month marked by flight, wind-races, and shifting skies.
Crisal – The month of clarity and frost. Icy mornings and star-filled nights gave it a contemplative air.
Umbrin – The month of twilight. A time for introspection, meditation, and dream rituals.
Fyrn – The clash of extremes. Where fire and ice met in violent storms.
Aurion – A sacred month, cosmic in feel. It was said the stars aligned more brightly here, and even the fabric of fate shimmered.
Each week still had seven days, but the rhythm felt heavier. Time in Prim demanded attention and presence.
Two days later, as promised, the family headed out for some fun.
They climbed into a black, crystal-lined carriage drawn by two sleek vitral horse-bred steeds. It hummed with quiet energy, the wheels levitating just slightly above the cobbled streets. The destination? The famed Aetherion Colosseum—a colossal arena carved into the cliffside and overlooking the golden sea of Auran Bay.
When they arrived, Shawn's jaw dropped—not from sight, but from sensation.
Even without his eyes, he could feel the grandeur. The vibrations of thousands of voices, the rush of movement, the pulse of energy fields weaving through the air like invisible threads. His evolved Sound Tide ability gave him a detailed sonic image of the structure. It was massive—walls rising like mountains, with layered stands that seemed to stretch up to the sky. The arena was circular, its floor made of a special obsidian-gold hybrid stone that could shift terrains for different combat simulations.
He was mesmerized—not just by the scale, but by the technology. Though Prim had no vehicles like Earth, it wasn't primitive. There were energy -powered elevators, energy-lit signs, crystal communication panels, and refreshment golems offering enchanted drinks to spectators. The blend of Vitral and invention was seamless.
Thanks to the Captain's reputation, they were escorted to private skybox seats at the very top of the Colosseum—luxurious, wide-cushioned, with a clear view of the arena and its surroundings. A first-class experience.
Just then, a battle began. A deep gong echoed, and the crowd roared
Battle One – Emberheart vs The Iron Jaws
The announcer's voice echoed through the colosseum like thunder:"Coming right up! Emberheart of the Living Flame… versus the Iron Jaws!"
A hush fell over the crowd, broken only by the soft crackling of flame.
A fiery young woman stepped into the arena, her silhouette blazing against the stone floor. Her cloak shimmered like molten lava, alive with flickers of flame that rippled with each breath. Her hair burned a deep red, swaying like fire in the windless air. Emberheart.
Across from her, three hulking figures stomped forward, each one clad in brutal blackened steel. They were the Iron Jaws—merciless brawlers known for their ruthless coordination and strength. Their armor clanked, jaws of metal masks snarling with jagged teeth.
The horn blared.
The world ignited.
Emberheart blurred into motion, her feet skating across the arena, leaving glowing scorched prints with every step. Her arms moved like water—graceful, fluid—but each motion brought with it blades of pure flame, extending from her palms and slicing through the air like hot knives through ice.
The first brute lunged. She ducked under the swing and sliced upward in a diagonal arc, molten sparks flying as his armor split open, hissing steam rising from the wound.
The second tried to flank her, launching a net infused with collapsing steel runes. It whirled toward her like a metal web—but Emberheart didn't flinch.
With a snap of her fingers, her entire body ignited. The flames howled outward in a sphere, and the net caught fire midair, exploding into spiraling shards of melted debris.
The third Iron Jaw roared and charged like a war beast. Emberheart's eyes narrowed. She spun in place, gathering her energy. Flames curled upward around her in a vortex, growing hotter—brighter.
Then she leapt.
In a blinding flash, the flames formed into a majestic phoenix, its wings spread wide, its eyes glowing with pure elemental will. The creature soared over the arena once before diving, engulfing all three Iron Jaws in a storm of fire.
When the flames died down… the brutes were kneeling, weapons melted, faces stunned behind their cracked visors.
They surrendered.
The crowd exploded in cheers.
Shawn leaned forward in amazement. His eyes didn't work, but through Sound Tide, he saw everything in his mind's eye."How… did she move like that?"
Lynne smirked, crossing her arms proudly."She's a Warrior. And trust me—this is just the warm-up."
Hearing that she was only a warrior made Shawn realize that when he was attacked by the leader of the rebels who was also a warrior, he was lucky to defeat him, though with a cost.
Battle Two – Skyweaver vs Titanhand
The wind stirred unnaturally as the next contender descended into the arena—Skyweaver.
He floated gently from above, arms outstretched, glowing tattoos lighting up his skin like constellations. His silver scarf fluttered, though the air was still. He didn't walk—he glided, boots never quite touching the ground. Each step hummed with wind and latent storm energy.
Opposite him, the ground shook.
Titanhand stepped forward, every footfall like thunder. Towering over the field at ten feet tall, he was encased in obsidian armor laced with mountain-carved runes. His fists were bigger than boulders—rumored to punch through fortress gates in a single blow.
The horn sounded.
Titanhand charged, slamming into the earth and sending a ripple across the arena floor. Skyweaver rose swiftly, wind curling around his body like a divine veil. With a sweep of his hand, razor-sharp currents of wind sliced toward the giant—blades made from the very air.
Titanhand blocked with a gauntlet the size of a wagon. The winds scraped and shrieked across the armor, leaving faint gashes. Titanhand responded by smashing his fist down, fracturing the stone floor and sending shockwaves outward like an earthquake.
Skyweaver was already gone.
High above, he spun, his body cloaked in miniature whirlwinds, lightning crackling across his arms. He descended like a javelin of stormlight, spiraling faster and faster.
He became a spinning storm spear.
With a final roar, he crashed into Titanhand like a bolt from the heavens. The impact created a blinding shockwave of lightning and wind, cracking the obsidian floor, sending pieces flying into the stands' protective barriers.
Dust swirled.
The arena fell into stunned silence.
Then… a creak.
Titanhand remained standing—for a moment—his knees locked, steam rising from his armor.
Then the giant dropped to one knee.
The crowd erupted.