The crystalline cityscape of Prion glistened against the sable backdrop of the starless sky reigning over the densely populated world. The skies were as dark as they could be, with light pollution clearing the heavens of all its natural beauty. Even when the moons of Prion moved across the skies, they too were dim and hard to see.

Sitting on an open balcony a few floors above the surrounding skyline, looking up at the sky to see if he could spot a ship or star, Aargon Lexius enjoyed the late evening breeze, fresh as the cool summer air of the mountains on Niacol. The weather on the planet was artificial and the wind controlled; the climate administrators purposefully kept the skies clear and the breeze pleasant to lift the spirit of a people in mourning.

It was difficult to tell what time of the night it was by using the stars in what seemed to be a sky as clear as a blackboard with a fresh coat of paint. It was late, maybe a few minutes after midnight. Aargon looked at his tablet lying next to him to confirm. The halls of the Great Library of Prion were silent and empty as the business of the day concluded hours before, and only the sounds of the Recordbots buzzing about, filing data, and cleaning the halls could be heard in the distant corridors of the magnificent building.

He and his father were up late trying to uncover lost secrets to the Empire in hopes of saving it from the coming storm. His father stood by a shelf inspecting records at the far end of the old Royal Archive room, humming a familiar hymn. It was an old hymn sung by the first settlers of Prion commemorating those who lost their lives during the voyage to Prion. It was not a happy hymn; his tone was heavy and heart-drenching. To Aargon, this was the first time his father mourned someone since the loss of his mother.

For a few days, they have been studying every piece of work they could find on the subject of Prion Royalty and the succession laws of the Empire. But, scanning through most of the older records was a tedious task; they could not find any documents on the subject. For millennia the lineage of the monarchy had been constant without crisis, but three days ago, the bloodline had run dry, and there was no heir to the throne. The request for information from the archives came from the highest governing body of the Empire, the Council of Elders. They were in search of a legitimate heir if one was still alive before the lower body of government proceeded with their plans to abolish the monarchy altogether.

For Aargon, it was not as personal of a matter as it was for his father; he had never interacted with the Emperor even though he often frequented the Library. Royal protocol dictated complete privacy, no one other than the specific people requested by the Emperor was allowed to approach him. When he did visit the Library, he only asked for Luther to accompany him, and his father would always insist on having Aargon with them. However, Aargon was not allowed to speak or respond to the Emperor. Instead, he was to follow and observe.

For as long as Aargon could remember, his father and the Emperor had a close relationship; they were like brothers. Luther Lexius and the Emperor spoke to each other like old friends; there was no protocol, no specific speech requirements. From studying the late Emperor’s body language from time to time, he deduced that the Emperor was comfortable enough to break royal protocol and be himself around Luther. He would relax, take his heavy royal robes off, and walk around with a regular suit, something the public was never allowed to see.

Aargon ran his fingers through his short black hair, thinking of how pleasant it had been before the Emperor’s death. His father has not been the same. With his tablet by his side, Aargon felt right at home, reading on anything and everything he could think of, taking his mind to distant places to forget all the heartache around him. Every day he was encouraged to learn something new, to explore knowledge he had not yet been exposed to. On his tablet, the page on display was an article about the assassinated Emperor of Prion, Emperor Veneus. Assassinations were no topic frequented by the Prionian people. It was unheard of, in fact. Aargon was seeking answers to this tragedy, answers he could not find.

“What would happen if we failed to find an heir?” Aargon’s words echoed down the narrow way between the tall archive shelves; he spoke soft enough not to break the silence to the rest of the room but loud enough for his word’s to reach his father’s ears, drawing his attention.

Aargon was seventeen Earth years old. He had been brought up in the Grand Library of Prion from birth; he knew no other kind of life. The constitution he also did not know, the subject of politics was not one he enjoyed spending his studies on, and thus the document was not something he had read before. He never thought they would need to explore its contents. The archives of the Library had no rival anywhere in the galaxy. Not even the Grand Library of the Ancient Congress on Earth had so many records archived there. His father, the Grand Keeper of the Library, almost knew everything that had been written and deposited into the Library’s Archives, and even he could not recall or find anything.

“We are unsure. Not even the Council of Elders know. However, Supreme Minister Ulri seems to think the monarchy will cease to exist and the Empire will become a Federation.”

Aargon swiped on his tablet, searching keyword after keyword. Finally, he explored articles relating to Federations but only found reports written in a negative light about the style of government. The system of government was fading in the galaxy; it was a system obsolete for use in a stellar community of worlds. It had no real power to keep a star nation together even in an age where interstellar travel and communication were almost instantaneous. Federations were perfect for single planetary governments but not beyond. They would last a few years but then collapse due to their lack of control and support.

“If that is in the constitution, then it should be changed. Federations practically don’t exist anymore, and for a good reason.”

Stolen novel; please report.

Luther had grown bored of his task; his arms were tired. It was late. He sat down next to Aargon and smiled.

“Your mother always believed that we should stay out of politics, rightly so, but who would have the knowledge and wisdom to guide a galactic empire in its success if they don’t have people as wise as you? Although a Federation would destroy the Empire as we know it, we will be facing something far worse than collapse; we’d be facing countless factions fighting for control over Prion. It is up to us to find an heir to the throne to avoid that.”

Aargon hardly listened to any of what his father was saying; by the mere mention of his mother, he blanked out, his mind absent and his emotions spiraling.

“I miss her.” He finally said. Luther turned away. Silence dominated between the two.

It was told that she had a very rare virus with unique properties that only attacked a specific bloodline’s DNA. It was initially engineered for the assassination of a significant ancestor of theirs. Aargon was not allowed to see her during her final days, fearing that he would also succumb to the virus. There was no cure. The virus had only killed eight people since it was discovered. With the virus killing itself when samples were taken from a live or dead person, there was no opportunity to gather enough data for proper research for a possible cure.

Aargon stood up, revealing his tall frame. The robes of the Lybrerius Society hung like curtains over him. His eyes were heavy, and his limbs weak. Usually, he would have the strength to carry himself; he slowly walked to the edge of the balcony, but his mind fogged up, and his will dropped. He leaned against the balcony wall holding back tears. His tablet dangled in one hand, ready to fall at any moment. He was looking far down into the dark abyss of the darkened alleys, hoping by some sort of freak accident, he would fall over the barrier and end this nightmare.

A firm hand rested on his shoulder. Looking back, he could only see himself in his father’s eyes, standing there, trying to comfort the lost and broken. It has been difficult for both of them since she left. Neither one of them could really come to terms with her death. It was sudden, and he could not find closure. For Aargon not to be there in person when her departure came and to say goodbye was a challenging thing to live with.

“She would have been proud of you. I could only hope to be the father to you as she was a mother.” Aargon’s thoughts wandered, he heard his father, but he couldn’t find something worthy enough to say to cheer him up.

“I miss her too.” Luther’s words were void of all happiness. He swallowed hard, trying not to appear weak to his son. Unfortunately, Aargon was not as strong as his father. Tears ran down his cheek. It was too soon for them to speak about the loss they both experienced with her death. Silence prevailed amongst the two as Luther’s firm touch moved his son into his arms, finally embracing him.

The silence was disrupted by a loud roar of a ship descending onto the landing pad a few floors above them. It was rare for ships to land at the Grand Library at such a late hour. Aargon looked at Luther for answers, but he had none.

“I am sure Nel can handle them.” Luther wiped tears from his eyes and placed his hands on Aargon’s shoulders.

“Listen to me.” He said gently; Aargon made eye contact; Luther could not help but see the deep pain within him.

“Your mother would have been proud of you. Just as I am. Great things are awaiting you in your future, don’t let grief become your Master. We are keepers of the Lybrarius Order; we need to be focused and present; that is how we’ve survived.”

Aargon exchanged a nod; Luther instinctively knew he was not entirely focusing on his words, but he let it go; it was a lesson for another time.

Within Luther’s deep pockets, a familiar tone played; it was his communicator. He took it out and found it was Nel on the other end.

“Is there a problem?” Luther’s voice echoed off the balcony; Aargon sat down again, scrolling on his tablet.

“There is a man here sent by someone called Thanatos. Are you expecting him?” Nel’s words shot through his heart, his eyes went wide, and he looked at Aargon. The boy didn’t look up, not caring much for the conversation his father was having.

“I will be right there,” He switched off the communicator and turned to Aargon. “I must leave.” Aargon exchanged a nod and looked back onto his tablet. Luther disappeared from the room, giving Aargon a moment to be alone.

A long while later, voices echoed in the thin night air; he could hear his father’s voice, worried and pleading. Aargon did not give it much thought; it was probably a dignitary or someone important who needed urgent access to the archives. It happened too often, but not at this hour. Then, a long while later, he heard the doors open on the other end of the room; his father rushed inside to greet him on the balcony where Aargon was enjoying the evening breeze. With his breath gone and worry in his eyes, he grabbed Aargon’s shoulders and kneeled before him.

“My son.” A tear ran down his cheek.

“You will always have a home here in these halls… Of course, I did not wish for this to happen, but the day has come.”

Aargon stood back in confusion; his father’s words were a mystery to him. Then, behind his father, a hooded man appeared; his face was filled with red tattoo marks, his frame enormous, and his presence demanded fear and respect.

“Aargon, you have been summoned by Epsimus Thanatos.” The voice of the hooded man was profound.

Aargon did not understand what was going on or who Epsimus Thanatos was; his father trembled.

“You need to go with this man, my son. They would not be kind to us if either one of us refused. This is the next phase of your journey to complete enlightenment; I believe you will be the wisest of all those seeking wisdom in this galaxy with all my heart. They will train you better than I or any one of your brothers and sisters ever could. This journey is one that you must complete without me.”

Aargon teared up; he now understood why his father was sad. At first, he thought it was because of the moment they shared earlier, but now it was clear that it was something far worse than that. He could see in his father’s eyes that he was not going to see him again. But then, the hooded man grabbed him by his arm and forced him towards the room’s exit.

Luther followed, pleading with the man, hoping he would see some reason and have some compassion. It felt to Aargon like an eternity before they reached the ship he had heard moments before.

“Please, I beg you, ask Thanatos if I can just have one last day with my son!” Luther was not ready for this; he was hoping the day would never come.

Aargon had peace in his heart, or at least he thought he had; he looked back one last time at his father still begging before the ship’s door closed and gave him a smile of assurance. Luther fell to the ground, weeping profoundly. There was no one able to comfort him now. Aargon knew his father was not strong enough to last the night. He had endured too many losses in a short time. He lowered his head and hoped his father would calm down soon. This was not the end. He was sure of it.