ASHES X AETHER - Book 2
The Wilds Come Home
⟢───── Ashes × Aether ─────⟣
SOL — LOWER AVENUES
PRE-FESTIVAL WEEK
The Capital city was already warming up.
Sol was always in motion. Color crept in early, fabric banners strung between stone columns, hand-painted sigils drying in the sun, musicians testing rhythms in alleyways that would soon be impassable. The twin suns climbed higher, their light splitting across glass, steel, and old masonry alike.
Soros walked backward through the avenue, reading from a slate and gesturing with his free hand.
“No, no—listen. The Sun floats need guides who can keep pace for three hours straight. Three,” he emphasized, holding up his fingers. “Not just ceremonial waving. Walking. Steering. Crowd awareness.”
Behind him, Rob dragged a folded banner nearly twice his height, the fabric brushing the ground no matter how he adjusted his grip.
“And enthusiasm,” Rob added. “You forgot enthusiasm.”
Soros didn’t break stride. “No one’s ever enthusiastic about work.”
They stopped at a corner where a street market spilled into the road. Food smoke curled upward. Children darted between stalls with ribbons tied around their wrists. A pair of older women stitched gold thread into crimson cloth, their hands moving fast and sure.
Rob planted the banner upright and cleared his throat.
“Festival of Suns,” he announced, louder than necessary. “Parade volunteers needed. Banner bearers. Float guides. Drum line escorts. You eat free the entire festival.”
That got attention.
A few heads turned. A vendor paused mid-sale. Someone laughed and nudged a friend.
Soros stepped in smoothly. “Training provided. Gear provided. You’ll walk from Sol to the City of Suns with the entire nation watching.”
He lowered his voice, conspiratorial. “And you’ll eat better than you have all year.”
That sealed it.
Hands went up. Questions followed. Soros answered them cleanly, efficiently, already adjusting assignments in his head.
Rob leaned down to a kid tugging on the banner edge. “You ever walked beside a sun before?”
The kid shook his head, eyes wide.
“Well,” Rob said, grinning, “you’re about to.”
They moved on.
The route took them deeper into Sol, toward the inner avenues where the architecture rose taller and the crowds thickened. Festival markers were chalked onto stone at regular intervals. The city was mapping itself into celebration.
Soros scanned his slate again. “We’re short six for the eastern float rotation.”
Rob blinked. “Don’t worry so much. We just started.”
They passed a group of off-duty guards leaning against a rail, armor loosened, laughter easy.
Rob pointed. “Them.”
Soros considered for half a second, then nodded. “Them.”
They approached together.
“Festival of Suns,” Rob said again, this time with practiced ease. “Parade detail. You walk. You guide. You don’t fight anyone.”
One of the guards raised a brow. “That last part negotiable?”
Soros smiled. “If it isn’t, you’ll be walking in the rear.”
That did it.
Names were exchanged. Commitments made. The slate filled.
As they moved on, Rob adjusted the banner on his shoulder. “You feel it?”
Soros didn’t look up. “The momentum?”
“The awareness,” Rob corrected. “Whole city’s leaning forward.”
Soros finally glanced around. The streets. The color. The people already moving like the festival had begun.
“Yeah,” he said. “And it’s not just the festival.”
Rob nodded once. “Word’s moving.”
They didn’t say what word. They didn’t have to.
Ahead of them, Sol opened into a broad avenue lined with rising standards, unfinished, waiting to be claimed.
Soros straightened his slate.
“Come on,” he said. “If this thing’s going to hold, we need the nation walking with us.”
They stepped forward, banners lifting into the light as Sol continued to gather itself for what was coming.
Footsteps cut through the noise.
Kariah entered the avenue at a brisk pace, heat dust clinging to the hem of her robes. She wasn’t alone. A dozen Nardoxians moved with her, some carrying instrument cases, others already wearing festival sashes. Two standard bearers followed at the rear, banners rolled and ready.
Rob blinked. “Glad you can join us, Miss Kariah.”
Kariah smiled then shrugged, already handing off a slate. “These are your guides.”
Soros took it, scanning names. His brows rose. “You recruited from the outer terraces.”
“And the west ramp market,” Kariah replied. “They know how to move crowds uphill.”
Behind her, a marching band assembled without instruction. Drums came out first. Brass followed. A conductor lifted his hand and waited.
Soros looked past Kariah, counting. “You brought bands.”
Rob laughed once, sharp and surprised. “Of course you did.”
A dispute broke out near the east turn, two districts arguing over banner order.
Before Soros could react, Kariah was already there. She listened for a moment, then reassigned placements.
They nodded and dispersed.
She turned back toward the avenue, already scanning for the next issue.
Behind the banners and sound, the city moved forward on schedule.
And further east, beyond the route and the noise, a military convoy crossed into Nardox without announcement.
⟢───── Ashes × Aether ─────⟣