In his thirties now, Khater toiled in the yard beside his wooden home. Years of regular training had sculpted strength into his frame, his arms steady and sure as he worked beneath the bright light of Solaris. Light shimmered through a canopy of towering trees, and though the day was beautiful, unease clung to him—a quiet, persistent whisper of dread that refused to fade. It haunted him like a shadow, a sense that something terrible was drawing near.

  At times he wondered if this foreboding came from instinct or madness.

  That morning, his instincts proved true.

  A piercing scream shattered the calm—his wife’s voice, raw with terror. Dropping his shovel, Khater sprinted into the house. Inside, chaos reigned. His wife was frantically searching, her face pale and eyes wild. Their son, Narlem, was gone.

  Khater rushed outside, desperate for answers. In the village square, a crowd of anxious Shinata locals had gathered, their voices rising in confusion and fear. At the center stood the mayor atop a wooden platform, his face drawn and weary.

  “Listen, everyone!” the mayor called. “It is with a heavy heart that I must tell you—hundreds of children have vanished from their homes. We are at a loss. No one understands what has happened.”

  A chorus of cries broke out, parents shouting in disbelief and anguish. The mayor raised his hands for calm.

  “I propose we seek counsel from the wizard,” he said. “Though not human herself, she has long protected our kind, bound by her half-brother’s human bloodline. She lived on this planet before our arrival and may hold the wisdom we need.”

  He scanned the frightened crowd. “Form a team at once,” he commanded. “Go to the wizard’s quarters and find our children.”

  The square erupted again, every parent of a missing child demanding to go. Khater stepped forward, his voice cutting through the noise.

  “We can’t all go,” he said firmly. “We’ll move faster and stay safer in a small group. Ten should be enough. The fairest way is by lottery.”

  He turned to the mayor. “Choose for us—at random.”

  The mayor nodded. “Those who have lost a child, raise your hands.”

  One by one, he selected names, ensuring both men and women were represented. When he reached the final person, his gaze fell on Khater.

  “You will be the last,” the mayor said. “Your wisdom in guiding us already proves your worth.”

  Khater inclined his head. Gathering the others, he set off toward the wizard’s domain.

  The wizard lived high above Caber, in the Skyes—a realm suspended among the clouds. The only way up was through a towering glass structure known as the smaklu, a colossal elevator that glimmered in the light.

  The group walked twenty minutes through forest and meadow before reaching it. During the ascent, one of the travelers broke the silence.

  “I’ve studied the wizard for years,” he said. “They say she can heal any wound and uncover any secret. Her home is filled with ancient books and enchanted tools.”

  The others nodded silently, eyes bright with hope. Perhaps she truly could save their children.

  When the smaklu came to a stop, they stepped onto a vast glass platform with black tiles for footing. Beneath them, clouds drifted lazily by, and far below, the houses of Shinata appeared as tiny specks. Ahead stood a gleaming white structure crowned with a great dome. Atop it spun a golden crescent, its tip adorned with a star made of diamond-like gems.

  For a fleeting moment, the sight filled them with awe. But the thought of their missing children brought the weight of sorrow crashing back. Together, they climbed the three steps to the ornate door.

  The door was carved with intertwined dragons, its handle polished gold. Khater grasped it and pushed.

  Inside, a quiet lobby awaited them, with white seats arranged in a semicircle. Finding no one at the reception desk, Khater searched for a way to summon aid. His eyes caught a red button, which he pressed.

  Moments later, a door slid open—and the wizard appeared.

  The wizard appeared similar to a female human in her late forties to early fifties, dressed in a voluminous white gown adorned with golden seams at the hems. Her most striking features were her unusually large ears, believed to enhance her senses, and her similarly large, puffy yet kind eyes.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  "Welcome, everyone," the wizard greets in a soothing and welcoming tone. "Please forgive me for keeping you waiting. I only managed to sleep for two hours last night, as I was inundated with requests for assistance. As you are aware, the well-being of humans on this planet is of great importance to me, and I am continuously striving to learn more about your species." Taking a moment, she gazes at each individual before her and then says: "The recent disappearance of the children has greatly troubled me, and it seems to be a new epidemic," she continues. "I've already conducted my own investigations, anticipating your arrival for answers." Khater and the others express surprise at her preparedness. "Furthermore," she adds, "I've consulted my magical floating book and conversed with other retired wizards."

  The wizard regards them earnestly, offering a warm smile before inviting them to gather in a circle around her. She begins with a message of empathy, acknowledging the stress they have endured. However, recognizing their urgency to find answers, she promptly shifts focus to the task at hand. This brings a sense of relief to her human visitors.

  With a wave of her hand, an image of the homes in Shinata materializes before them. Another wave conjures up a subsequent image, and with each subsequent gesture, the wizard unveils a new sequence, gradually revealing the truth behind their tragedy.

  All eyes are fixed on the images, wide with surprise. The spectral figures depicted are dark and ethereal, resembling ghosts with their translucent forms. Their piercing red eyes seem capable of peering into one's very soul. With enormous fangs and razor-sharp claws, these creatures flit in and out of view with remarkable speed. Instead of walking, they appear to move with an eerie grace, akin to flying. The sequence depicts the creatures flying into homes and emerging with the children cradled in their arms. What's particularly strange is that the children appear to be sleeping soundly, as if under a spell.

  Khater clenched his fists. “Then we must find them,” he said. “They’re alive—I can feel it. We must bring them back.”

  The wizard’s expression darkened. “I will try to find a way.”

  She turned to her floating book, its pages flipping of their own accord. After several tense moments, she returned.

  “I fear your children are possessed,” she said softly. “These spirits take control of their hosts and may even harm those they once loved. Remember—they are no longer themselves. The spirits speak through them.”

  Khater’s voice trembled. “Why my son? Why Narlem?”

  The wizard hesitated. “Because these spirits seek out troubled souls—the broken, the wounded. They are easiest to claim.”

  She looked at him with compassion. “What I must tell you will be painful. Do I have your permission to speak before the others?”

  Khater swallowed hard and nodded.

  Raising her hand, the wizard conjured an image—Narlem as a small boy.

  “Your son was abused,” she said gently. “By his cousin. He was silenced with threats. For years, he carried that torment alone. The spirits sense such pain as a scent in the air—they feed on it.”

  Khater’s face burned with shame and anger. “I… I didn’t know.”

  The wizard nodded sadly. “He was trapped in fear. Thirteen now, his spirit was weakened. That is why they found him.”

  A woman from the group cried out, “But my granddaughter wasn’t abused! How could this happen to her?”

  The wizard turned to her. “Your daughter—the child’s mother—was possessed before she gave birth. When she died, the spirit passed to the newborn.”

  The woman shook her head. “But my granddaughter was fine—normal!”

  “They do not awaken,” the wizard said, “until the host reaches eight years of age.”

  The woman gasped. “That’s when she vanished.”

  The room filled with murmurs of confusion and fear.

  “What can we do?” someone demanded. “How do we save them?”

  “There is a potion,” the wizard replied. “Made from a sacred flower that grows only in the emperor’s mansion. But it is heavily guarded by the emperor’s beasts—creatures who loathe humankind yet pretend loyalty. The emperor herself might help; her own brother fell to these spirits and took his life. Fearing for her children, she ordered the cultivation of the flower.”

  At that moment, an elderly woman stepped forward. “Wait,” she said, her voice trembling but clear. “I know more.”

  The crowd turned toward her.

  “My name is Notalda,” she said. “I, too, was once possessed.”

  A hush fell over the room.

  “When I was thirteen, my mind was at war,” she began. “Voices screamed within me, whispering despair. I withdrew from everything—friends, family, even sunlight. One night, beneath a full moon, I heard the voices calling from outside my home: ‘Come closer,’ they said. ‘We can help you. Life is darkness—light shines with us.’”

  Her eyes clouded. “I followed them to a small hole in the ground. There I found a blue flower dusted with snow, though it was midsummer. When I picked it up, its petals unfurled and a red, dragon-like eye stared into me. ‘Smell me,’ the voices urged. I obeyed.”

  Her voice softened to a whisper. “I was consumed by color and light—floating among endless white horses. I thought I’d entered heaven. But when I woke, I was in my bed, yearning for that feeling again.”

  Khater listened, torn between sympathy and impatience. Every moment lost could cost his son’s life.

  Notalda continued. “I told my sister, Sam. She didn’t believe me. So I showed her. That night, the voices returned. Sam came with me. She smelled the flower—and collapsed. She never woke again.”

  Her voice cracked. “We rushed her to the wizard, but it was too late. My guilt dragged me deeper into darkness. I kept searching for that cursed flower until the wizard’s father rescued me—your father,” she said, turning to the current wizard. “He took me to a sanctuary above the clouds. I suffered terribly, but he gave me the golden solution that restored my peace.”

  Silence filled the hall.

  A man with piercing blue eyes finally broke it. “Enough talk,” he said. “We must act. Who’s with me?”

  “I am,” someone answered.

  “Me too,” said another.

  Soon the entire group echoed their agreement.

  Khater turned to the wizard. “Thank you. But we cannot wait. Our children’s lives hang in the balance.”

  The wizard bowed her head. “Go then. May the light guide you—and beware the spirits’ deceit.”

  And so Khater and his companions left the Skyes, the wind at their backs, determination in their hearts, and the weight of a thousand souls upon their shoulders.