Chapter 2: Shifting Tides

The night air on Aeris was always warmer than one might expect for a floating island—perhaps due to the constant shifts in altitude and the unpredictable nature of the winds that carried it. Calen stood on one of the observation platforms, his gaze distant, tracing the contours of the world below. His mind still buzzed with the aftereffects of the festival. The image of Livra, her movements so graceful, still lingered in his thoughts.

He wasn’t sure what it was about her that had struck him so deeply. Maybe it was the way her eyes sparkled under the artificial lights, or the way she had so effortlessly captivated everyone around her. She was something different—something he wasn’t used to. He didn’t belong to the world she inhabited, not in the way she did. She had this effortless beauty, this undeniable magnetism, and all he had was his hands, calloused from years of mechanical labor.

But that wasn’t the problem, was it?

No, the problem was that he had no idea where he stood with Sienna anymore.

She’d become more distant with each passing week, and tonight’s dismissal—the way she had left him waiting alone—had finally broken through the wall he had carefully constructed around his emotions. Was it over between them? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he couldn’t stay in this limbo any longer.

The soft hum of Aeris’ engines vibrated through the platform, and Calen turned to look out over the floating landscape once more. The glow of the city below stretched out like a river of lights, casting a shimmering reflection on the vast lake that lay at the island’s heart. That was the key, the lifeblood of Aeris: the lake.

He could already feel the weight of his responsibilities pulling at him, as it often did. As a levicita technician, it was his job to ensure that the gravitational mechanisms that kept the island floating worked flawlessly. If the balance ever faltered, even slightly, the island could drift into dangerous territory—or worse, plunge into the vast ocean below. But tonight, even the looming dread of his duties didn’t seem to matter.

Calen turned his focus back to the crowds below, where the festival was still in full swing. Lights flashed and laughter echoed through the night air. It wasn’t hard to find people with one eye on the festivities and another on their ambitions. He saw the elite families, the politicians, and the performers moving between the booths, shaking hands, and making deals under the guise of celebration. This world, so focused on the transient joy of the festival, was still driven by the ever-present tensions of power and class.

Sienna.

Her face flashed in his mind again. He tried to push the thoughts away, but they lingered, stubborn and unwavering. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do anymore. His world had been simple before he met her: work hard, keep your head down, and take care of yourself. But with her, things had become complicated. She was a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve—and worse, she seemed determined to stay an enigma.

But then, something caught his eye—a familiar figure moving through the crowd, weaving effortlessly through the masses. It was Livra, her figure unmistakable, her black hair cascading down her back like a river of ink. She was far from the chaos of the main festival stage, walking with a certain ease, her face glowing with an inner radiance that only heightened her beauty.

Calen’s heart skipped a beat before he could stop it. He hadn’t expected to see her again so soon.

She was no longer surrounded by the admirers she had danced with earlier. Now, she was alone—still, and yet everything about her seemed in motion. Calen watched her for a moment longer before he found his legs moving on their own, drawn toward her.

He told himself it was just curiosity, nothing more. He’d just met her, after all. But something inside him didn’t want to ignore the pull. It was strange, but it was there.

He approached carefully, not wanting to startle her, but she caught sight of him almost immediately. Her lips parted, and for a brief moment, she looked surprised. But then, her expression softened into a smile. It wasn’t a smile of recognition, but something else—something more personal, more intimate.

“Calen,” she said, her voice gentle yet filled with a warmth that seemed to fill the space between them. “I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

He stood a little too close, his heart still racing. “I… didn’t expect to see you either. Not like this, anyway.”

She tilted her head, her eyes searching his face with an intensity that made him feel as though she could see through him. “What are you doing here alone?” she asked, the question curious but not judgmental.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he replied, his voice coming out more defensive than he meant.

Livra laughed softly, and the sound was like a melody in the air. “I like the quiet,” she said simply. “It helps me think. Sometimes, the festival gets… overwhelming.”

Calen couldn’t help but nod. He understood that feeling all too well. The world he lived in, with its constant buzzing of politics and power plays, was never quiet. Even now, amidst the celebrations, he could feel the weight of it pressing down on him.

“Do you come here often?” he asked before he could stop himself.

She gave a little shrug. “When I can. The lake helps. It’s a peaceful place, if you know how to find it.”

Her gaze shifted toward the edge of the platform where the view of the lake was unobstructed. The water shimmered, reflecting the stars and the distant lights of the floating cities. It was beautiful, in its own way—calm and serene, just like her.

Calen found himself drawn into the moment, drawn to her. It was as if the rest of the world had disappeared.

Calen took a deep breath, the weight of the conversation and his growing attraction to Livra making him hesitate. “I should probably get going,” he said finally, his tone almost regretful. “I have some work to check on. You know, responsibilities.”

Livra raised an eyebrow, amused. “Responsibilities so urgent that you’d leave the most important festival on Aeris?”

He gave a lopsided smile, scratching the back of his neck. “I guess so. Someone has to make sure the island doesn’t end up where it shouldn’t.”

That caught Livra’s attention. “And what exactly do you do that’s so important it keeps Aeris in the sky?”

“I’m in charge of the island’s tilting system during the festival,” he said with a slightly technical tone. “It’s the moment when the water from the lake is released to balance the island’s gravitational load. If it’s not done right...”

Livra tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. “I’ve always wondered about that. How does it all work? I mean, it seems like magic to me. Levicita feels like a magical stone.”

Calen chuckled softly, shaking his head. “It’s not magic, it’s science. Levicita is a unique element. Depending on the level of radiation it absorbs, a single volume of levicita can have greater or lesser density than another of the same material. That’s how we control its weight.”

Livra’s eyes sparkled with intrigue. “But that doesn’t explain how it floats.”

He smiled, impressed by her insight. “You’re pretty sharp for someone so young,” he teased gently. “And you’re right—just reducing its weight wouldn’t make it float. When levicita was first discovered thousands of years ago, countless experiments were conducted with it. Naturally, one of them was to reduce its density to zero.”

“And then what happened?” Livra leaned in, captivated.

“That’s when its second unique property was revealed,” Calen said, his voice taking on a storyteller’s rhythm. “Negative weight. When its density drops to a certain point, levicita doesn’t just stop obeying gravity—it repels it. It defies it. It’s like the stone decided it was done with the rules of the universe and made its own. Some say it’s almost romantic.”

Livra listened intently, her expression softening as Calen spoke. He realized too late how caught up he’d gotten in his explanation, and a faint flush crept up his cheeks. “Sorry,” he said quickly, looking away. “I probably went on a bit too much.”

“No,” Livra said, her voice quiet but firm. “Not at all. I think it’s beautiful.”

Her words hung in the air between them, and for a moment, Calen couldn’t look away. Something about the way she said it, so earnest and unguarded, stirred something in him he didn’t quite understand.

“That’s quite poetic,” Livra said, her voice light, though her gaze stayed fixed on Calen’s. Then, as if remembering something, she added with a teasing smile, “Besides, I’m not as young as you seem to think. I just turned eighteen last month.”

Calen raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. “Eighteen? Oh, well, that changes everything,” he said, his tone dripping with mock seriousness. “You must be so worldly.”

She laughed, narrowing her eyes at him. “You don’t look much older than me, anyway. What are you, nineteen? Twenty?”

“Try twenty-six,” Calen replied, crossing his arms and leaning against the platform railing. “That’s nearly a decade of experience on you, kid.”

Livra gasped in exaggerated shock, placing a hand over her heart. “Twenty-six? Oh no, how could I possibly hope to match your ancient wisdom?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s a lifetime of difference when it comes to experience. Trust me.”

Livra stepped closer, her playful grin softening. “Maybe. But I’m a fast learner. You’d be surprised.”

Calen swallowed, caught off guard by the shift in her tone. There was something disarming about the way she looked at him, a confidence that belied her years. “I don’t doubt that,” he said, his voice quieter now.

Livra tilted her head, a flicker of vulnerability peeking through her confident demeanor. “Then stay,” she said simply. “Don’t go back to work. Not yet.”

He hesitated, glancing out over the shimmering lake as if searching for an excuse. “I really should—”

“No, you shouldn’t,” she interrupted, stepping even closer until they were just a breath apart. “It’s the Festival of Aeris, the biggest night of the year. Doesn’t the great Calen deserve one evening to forget about work and have a little fun?”

He looked down at her, his resolve wavering. “Fun?” he echoed, his lips quirking into a small smile. “Is that what this is?”

“It could be,” Livra said with a mischievous glint in her eyes. She reached into a small satchel slung over her shoulder and pulled out two bottles of dark amber liquid. “I even come prepared. Festival beer. The good kind, not the watered-down stuff they serve at the stalls.”

Calen raised an eyebrow. “How do you even have that?”

“I have my ways,” Livra said with a wink, handing him one of the bottles. “Think of it as an investment in your relaxation.”

He hesitated again, turning the bottle over in his hand. The hum of Aeris’ engines and the faint echoes of music from the festival seemed distant, almost muted, as if the moment belonged only to the two of them. “You’re trouble, you know that?” he said finally, cracking the bottle open.

“So I’ve been told,” Livra replied with a grin, opening her own bottle and taking a sip. “But you didn’t say no.”

“Not yet,” he muttered under his breath, taking a swig. The beer was cold and rich, and he had to admit, it was better than what he’d usually drink on festival nights.

Livra leaned against the railing, her gaze drifting to the lake. “You know,” she said after a moment, “I’ve spent most of my life dreaming of nights like this. The festival, the lights, the music… all of it. But it always felt like something was missing.”

Calen glanced at her, intrigued despite himself. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged, her expression unreadable. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s just that everything feels bigger than me—bigger than all of us. The lake, the sky, even the levicita that keeps Aeris afloat. It’s like... I’m here, but I’m not really a part of it.”

He studied her for a moment, her words striking a chord he didn’t fully understand. “I think I know what you mean,” he said finally. “Sometimes, it feels like we’re just… passengers on this floating rock. Watching everything from the sidelines.”

Livra turned to him, her eyes bright despite the melancholy in her smile. “Exactly. And that’s why I try to hold on to nights like this. The ones where I feel like I’m really here. Alive.”

Calen didn’t respond right away, taking another sip of his beer. The weight of her words settled over him, and for a moment, he forgot about Sienna, about work, about everything except the girl standing beside him.

“Don’t go,” Livra said again, her voice softer now. “Stay with me. Just for tonight. Let the world handle itself for a little while.”

He met her gaze, his thoughts warring between responsibility and the magnetic pull of the moment. “The system’s solid,” he said after a long pause. “Nothing’s going to happen tonight.”

“Then what’s stopping you?” Livra asked, her smile returning as she raised her bottle in a mock toast. “Here’s to making the most of the night.”

Calen sighed, a reluctant grin tugging at his lips as he clinked his bottle against hers. “Alright,” he said. “Just for tonight.”

Livra beamed, the triumph in her expression impossible to miss. And as the two of them wandered back into the heart of the festival, the night stretching endlessly before them, Calen couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d just stepped into something far bigger than himself.