19th February, Stellar Year 2924
Capaldi
Dylan parked his car beneath the towering crimson bark of the Red Trunk forest and stepped out into the amber-tinged twilight. The forest always felt older than memory, as though it had watched empires rise and fold back into dust.
By the time he reached the glass-paneled greenhouse of Old Shen, the last of the sun's rays had turned the curved roof into a prism of fading gold.
It had been a relentless day. Errands, obligations, voices demanding answers. Yet the moment he stepped inside the greenhouse, the world softened. The air carried the scent of damp soil and night-blooming floras.
The plants stood in elegant rows, some glowing faintly with bioluminescent veins, others whispering as their leaves brushed together. Dylan often felt that this place was less a greenhouse and more a cathedral of living things.
Old Shen's voice drifted through the warm air, steady and resonant.
"The land of the Blue Planet," he said,
"a planet located at the farthest spiral of the galaxy Eryndor, revolves around the radiant star Seraphel. We are bestowed with everything one could possibly imagine. The world is divided into five continents, two subcontinents, and five great oceans that breathe like ancient lungs."
Dylan paused just inside the doorway. Lena sat cross-legged near a cluster of silver-leafed vines, completely absorbed. Old Shen stood beside a towering fern whose fronds shimmered like glass threads. His long robes brushed the tiled floor as he moved slowly, deliberately.
"The kingdom of Arizone,"
Old Shen continued, "rests upon the largest of the continents, Aurelios. Geologically, it is positioned at the most balanced heart of the Blue Planet."
"Some say the Almighty favored it with deliberate care. Its lands are gold, its air is silver, and its waters are diamonds."
Dylan smiled faintly. Old Shen always spoke as though he had personally negotiated with the cosmos.
"The kingdom of Arizone has four grand divisions," the old man said.
"The East, the West, the North, and the South. Each carries its own spirit."
He lifted a slender finger.
"The East is the largest. It holds five provinces and is called Elytheris. A realm of scholars, engineers, and glass cities that hum with energy."
He shifted his gaze.
"The West bears four provinces and is named Viremont. Wind-swept plateaus and crimson fields, where artisans shape metals like poetry."
A slight pause.
"The North, with its three provinces, is called Norvaryn. Snow-bound peaks and observatories carved into ice cliffs. It is where the sky feels closest."
"And the South," he concluded softly, "also of three provinces, is Solmara. Fertile valleys, sapphire rivers, and the sacred land of Meges."
He let the name linger.
Dylan felt the greenhouse quiet further, as if even the leaves were listening.
"Having a kingdom so grand is a blessing," Old Shen continued, "but it is the people; especially the Lorphs and the Meges;who are the true treasure."
Lena leaned forward slightly.
"The kingdom of Arizone is home to two major evolved races,"
he said. "The Lorphs; innovators, builders, seekers of scientific truth. They inhabit the luminous cities. Their world is advanced, mechanical, precise. Robotic systems guide their industries. Artificial intelligences predict the weather before clouds gather."
He smiled faintly.
"Yet despite their devotion to science, the Lorphs have always believed that the unseen realms exist."
His eyes flickered toward the northern glass panes where twilight deepened into indigo.
"The Meges,"
he continued, voice lowering, "dwell primarily in the forbidden territories of Meges . They possess gifts; abilities tied not to machinery, but to energy itself. Some shape light. Others bend gravity in whispers. A few can hear the pulse of Seraphel within their veins."
Dylan folded his arms, listening now with full attention.
"Beyond these two," Old Shen added,
"there are others. Those who choose transformation. Through advanced gene therapy, certain citizens modify themselves a few times each year; adapting form and ability as they wish. They inhabit specialized cities designed for their evolving physiologies."
He moved slowly past a row of violet blossoms that opened as he spoke.
"The ancient lore," he said, "contains stories of faeries with wings of starlight, of shadow-bound vampires, of beings dwelling in the dark world beneath our own. Whether myth or memory, the Lorphs have never dismissed these tales entirely. Their laboratories search for proof even as their elders whisper prayers."
Lena's expression glowed with wonder.
"One could say," Old Shen concluded,
"that the kingdom of Arizone is home to a versatile assembly of higher organisms. Creatures known and unknown. Species catalogued and species that watch from hidden groves."
He paused, and in that stillness Dylan sensed something else, an awareness that the lecture had run long.
Old Shen's gaze lifted and finally met Dylan's.
A knowing smile touched his lined face. He gestured subtly for him to sit.
"Dylan, my boy," he said warmly, "you are early today."
Lena startled at the sound of her name unspoken yet felt. She turned, and the moment her eyes met Dylan's, a rush of nerves tangled inside her. She had not heard him enter. For a heartbeat she simply stared.
Dylan laughed softly and crossed the space between them. He slipped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her gently into his chest.
"Father left earlier," he replied to Old Shen.
"Ah," Old Shen murmured, bending to gather a small wooden box from the table beside him. He began packing something carefully inside; vials, perhaps, or seed capsules. His movements were precise, almost guarded.
Dylan noticed. A subtle tension edged the air, like static before a storm.
Yet he said nothing.
He rested his chin lightly atop Lena's head. She relaxed against him, though her eyes drifted once more toward Old Shen, who seemed unusually preoccupied.
Outside, the Red Trunk forest shifted in the wind. Somewhere beyond the greenhouse walls, something stirred; unseen, patient.
And inside, beneath glass and starlight, the history of Arizone settled like dust over ancient roots, waiting for its next chapter to unfold.