Chapter 17: Footprints in the Dust

Morning found Calen deep within the bowels of the levicita reactor, surrounded by a labyrinth of colossal machinery. The reactor core thrummed steadily, an ever-present reminder of the raw energy that kept Aeris afloat. The chamber was massive, its walls streaked with grime and coated in a fine layer of dust, carried in by the relentless winds from the underside of the floating city.

It had been weeks since Calen last visited this part of the LCC, not since the fateful night of the festival. Now, under Valtheris’s orders, he was tasked with uncovering the truth about what might have occurred that evening. After hours of labor, adjusting gears, recalibrating radiation levels, and triple-checking every parameter, he finally took a break. Sitting atop a high maintenance platform, he let his legs dangle over the edge, gazing out at the endless expanse of sky visible through the narrow ventilation slats below.

Despite Valtheris’s directive looming over him, Calen’s mind drifted elsewhere—to Livra and the danger that hung over her. The mercenary, Balthar Drik, wasn’t going to give up easily. Calen knew he was no match for someone like Balthar. The man was built for violence, experienced in combat, and unwavering in his resolve. What could Calen, a mere technician, possibly do to protect Livra?

The thought gnawed at him. He wasn’t particularly clever or physically imposing; his strengths lay in his quiet competence, not heroics. Running away with her, disappearing without a trace, seemed like the only viable solution. Perhaps they could vanish together, escape the chaos that was closing in around them. Yes, maybe that’s the answer, he thought.

But the more he considered it, the more conflicted he became. It wasn’t an easy choice—not with what he’d built for himself in Aeris. His job at the LCC offered stability, security, and a hard-earned place in a society that had once seemed impossibly distant.

Calen’s childhood had been a lesson in hardship. Growing up in the perpetual gloom of the Rainshadow Archipelago, he’d been the eldest of five siblings. The archipelago, a cluster of seven minor floating islands, lay directly beneath Aeris. Constant cascades from the upper city’s overflowing waterfalls created a ceaseless drizzle below, leaving the islands damp but far from self-sustaining. The lack of sunlight stunted agriculture, and the archipelago’s residents lived in grinding poverty.

Life there had taught Calen that survival often meant looking out for oneself. He’d cared for his younger siblings, but affection had been a luxury they couldn’t afford. At the age of twenty, he’d made the decision to leave it all behind. Without a word to anyone, he stowed away on a levicita transport ship and let fate choose his destination.

That destination had been Aeris.

The first few months were brutal. Calen scraped by as a street beggar, surviving on scraps until he managed to land a job as a bartender at a small establishment. It was there that he first met Sienna.

At the time, she’d been just another patron—one who frequented the bar to drown her frustrations. But over time, their conversations became more regular, their connection more genuine. One night, she asked him why he had come to Aeris. Calen told her everything: his childhood in the archipelago, his escape, and his struggle to find his footing in a city that seemed worlds away from his upbringing.

Something about his story had struck a chord with Sienna. Using her influence within the administration of Operientes Solem, she secured him a low-level position at the LCC. From there, Calen worked tirelessly, slowly climbing the ranks until he reached his current role as a well-paid levicita technician.

He never stopped visiting the bar, though his reasons had changed. As a customer rather than a bartender, his conversations with Sienna became more personal. What began as casual camaraderie turned into something deeper—a physical relationship that, for Calen, evolved into love.

But that was a long time ago. Their bond had faded, leaving only a distant memory of her soft skin and fleeting tenderness.

And now, he was faced with the prospect of leaving it all behind—not for Sienna, but for Livra.

Was she worth it? Could he really risk everything he had built for the chance to save her? Calen leaned back on the platform, staring up at the metal beams that crisscrossed the ceiling high above him. He needed to decide, and soon.

For now, all he could do was think.

Calen’s communicator vibrated in his pocket. He retrieved it and saw a message from Rion:

We need to talk. This afternoon, at the bar.

Rion’s curt tone was unusual, which put Calen on edge. He rarely sent messages without his usual flair or humor. Whatever it was, it had to be serious.

Calen glanced at the clock. His shift was nearly over, so he decided to finish up, clean himself off, and head out. He began ascending the platforms toward the locker room using his levitator rig, double-checking his tools along the way. Just as he secured most of his gear, the keyring on his belt slipped free.

“Perfect. Just perfect,” Calen muttered as he watched it tumble down, bouncing off several platforms below.

Grumbling to himself, he descended to retrieve the keys, which had come dangerously close to falling through a narrow vent. Kneeling to grab them, something else caught his eye: footprints.

The thick layer of dust on the lower platforms usually remained undisturbed. But here, there were clear tracks leading toward the reactor core, far in the corner of the sprawling facility.

“That’s strange,” Calen murmured. “No one comes down here unless they absolutely have to.”

He crouched to inspect the footprints more closely. They were fresh, the edges of the impressions sharp against the dusty surface.

There were two sets of prints. One set was massive—large enough to belong to a tall and heavy person. The other set, by contrast, was smaller, the footprint narrow and ending in a pointed toe. Calen recognized the shape immediately.

“Heels?” he muttered aloud. “Who the hell wears heels in a place like this?”

He stared at the tracks, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. A creeping realization began to form. The night of the festival—the sabotage.

The unease in his chest deepened. Had the people who left these prints been involved in that event? The thought chilled him.

The prints gave him little else to work with, but the implications were alarming. Two individuals had been in a restricted, highly sensitive area near the reactor core, and they had no reason to be there unless it was deliberate.

He stood, pocketing his keys and dusting off his hands. There wasn’t much more he could discern on his own, but he couldn’t ignore this.

“Rion needs to hear about this,” Calen decided.

Shaking his head, he began his ascent to the locker rooms.

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The bar’s familiar sound felt off tonight as Calen stepped inside, scanning for Rion. It didn’t take long to spot him—hunched over a small corner table far from his usual perch at the bar. Oddly enough, Rion wasn’t nursing his typical beer but a glass of amber liquor. The sight immediately set Calen on edge.

Calen approached the bartender and gestured for two more glasses of the same drink. Whatever had Rion acting so out of character must be serious. Drinks in hand, he slid into the seat opposite his friend.

“Hey,” Calen started. “Whatever’s going on, it must be urgent for you to drag me here like this.”

“Yeah…” Rion replied, his voice unusually low.

“Okay, hold that thought,” Calen interrupted, leaning forward, his eyes alight. “There’s something big I’ve gotta tell you first.”

“Calen—” Rion began, but it was already too late. Calen’s excitement was in full swing, and nothing could stop the flood.

“I found a lead on the festival sabotage,” Calen declared, his voice almost too loud for the quiet corner. “Down at the reactor in the LCC! There were footprints in the dust near the core!”

Rion’s brow furrowed. “The core reactor? That’s not even connected to the levicite’s parameters. Why would anyone—?”

“I know!” Calen cut in, his enthusiasm growing. “And here’s the weirdest part. There were two sets of prints: one from someone huge—like, shoe-size-of-a-small-planet huge—and the other? Small. Like…heels. Someone wearing heels, Rion! Who the hell wears heels down there?”

Rion’s expression shifted from confusion to concern, his mind clearly racing. “Wait…heels? And by the reactor?” He hesitated, a realization dawning. “There’s…one thing. But it’s not something most people would know—only those of us who worked on the core installation six years ago when it changed its place.”

Calen leaned in, his excitement now tinged with curiosity. “What is it?”

Rion didn’t answer immediately. His face had gone pale, his lips tightening as if weighing what to say.

Finally, he muttered, “I need to check something.”

“I’m coming with you,” Calen said, already rising.

“No,” Rion snapped, his tone firm and uncharacteristically sharp. “You’ve got something more important to handle.”

“More important than this?” Calen countered, bewildered.

Rion leaned forward, glaring at Calen. “Yes, you idiot. Sienna’s back. I saw her last night at the bar. She was talking to some strange guy—looked like trouble.”

“What?” Calen froze. “Sienna’s here?”

“Yes, and she’s not doing well,” Rion continued. “She’s being demoted at work, and that guy she was with? He wasn’t just chatting; he was interrogating her about—”

But Rion’s words fell on deaf ears. The moment he’d said Sienna’s name, Calen’s mind had shifted entirely. With a start, Calen shot to his feet, grabbed his leather jacket, and strode out of the bar without another word.

The brisk night air hit Calen like a wave as he ran through the streets of Aeris, heart pounding. He didn’t know what he would say to Sienna, but that didn’t matter. If she was here and in trouble, he couldn’t just stand by. Sienna had been the one constant in his life when he first arrived in Aeris. Their connection—first as friends, then something more—had shaped him in ways he couldn’t fully explain.

Even if things were different now—especially now, with Livra—he couldn’t ignore the pull. Whatever Sienna was dealing with, she wouldn’t face it alone.

By the time he reached the familiar door to Sienna’s apartment, his breath came in short gasps. For a moment, he hesitated, staring at the door, unsure of what awaited him on the other side. Then, steeling himself, he knocked.