THE NIGTH OF SKYR-KODE

🌌 THE NIGHT OF THE SKYR KODE 🌌 

A small, solitary, fragile white light floats in the center of an overwhelming dark space. A voice, sounding like the echo of millennia, begins to resonate in the icy air:

"Have you ever stopped to consider what it means to be born without possessing all the sensory gifts of the world? A strange question, I know. But the truth is that few living beings come to feel the magnitude of that deficiency."

The light flickers, trembling.

"There are those who will never again hear the cheerful trill of a bird at dawn..."

The light is tinged with an intense, almost painful red.

"...those who have lost the taste and sweetness of life."

The light vibrates with an ancient energy, turning into a spectral violet.

"Those to whom sight is denied, who will never again witness a sunrise or the golden farewell of a sunset."

The light rapidly compresses, taking on a cold sapphire blue color.

"Those who have lost the sense of smell, unable to perceive the promise of the scent of flowers in their ephemeral moment of blooming."

The light bursts into an endless stream of flashes before fusing again, changing to a vital and hopeful green.

"Those to whom touch has been denied: the warmth of a sincere hug, the soft caress of dew on the grass..."

The orb begins to glow with a blinding intensity, a beacon struggling to illuminate the dark immensity, and turns into an incandescent golden yellow.

"And for those who are silenced, who cannot utter a single word into the air to claim their existence."

The light fragments completely, scattering into a million dying sparks that slowly extinguish.

"These are those who have been repudiated by the very soul of the planet, by the primordial energy that shelters its children."

The void is absolute. In the center of that stillness, a sphere of tangible darkness begins to emerge. It emits no light, but the vacuum it generates sounds like the final collapse of a star.

"But..."

The outline of the dark sphere is traced with a halo of stubborn white flashes.

"That which has not been lost..."

The dark sphere pulses, and six small colored spheres detach from it (red, violet, blue, green, yellow, and an orange one that symbolizes an additional sense or life itself). They dance gracefully around the central void.

"Is the reason why you have forced yourself to keep fighting."

The room is briefly flooded with the beautiful whirlwind of colors, chasing away the shadows.

"Your heart."

Suddenly, the scene breaks. A brutal mechanism activates: the central sphere is violently imprisoned inside a black iron box that creaks as it closes. Hundreds of thick, ominous chains wrap around it, leaving no crack.

"But even if you cling to these sensations, as if you could truly understand or feel them... you do not possess such gifts, Darkness. Your essence drags the echo and the past of death."

The voice descends to an icy whisper, yet charged with power.

"We shall see how far your foolish determination goes."

"Let us begin to write your story."

🌙 Prologue: The Light of Velorum 🌙

Night had enveloped the streets of Velorum, the Cradle of the Macktrels. On the horizon, the Great Palace and the imposing Academy stood on the central hill, a colossal mountain that whispered the power and control of a civilization born from its own past. The Aukumar embraced the capital; colossal trees that could reach ten kilometers in height, with huge diameter trunks, their endless canopies lost in the mystery of the surrounding forest. They were sentinels of incalculable antiquity that guarded the capital without interfering in its domains.

Our gaze rose over the sky, following hundreds of birds navigating the last glow of sunset. Their light fluttering transmitted a fleeting peace.

The night settled, dissolved by a celestial rain of lights. The scene was beautiful: thousands of stalls lit in harmony, passersby walking among shops, and a chorus of laughter, jokes, and joy emanating from the people.

High above, the capital turned on its own lights to rival the stars. The city's canals opened, and a vast river of water, fed from the highest area of the kingdom, began its descent. The water traveled through beautiful channels of white stone, as clear as a mother's embrace. Children ran to the rhythm of the water, trying to reach it; guards watched the scene calmly, giving gentle orders to the little ones to be careful.

Animals left their nests to hunt, while others returned home. Insects began their nocturnal songs. Order and peace were latent in every corner.

Walking slowly, Lyra, the mother, carried her provisions. Her heavy cloth bag made her sway slightly. The night trade bustled with energy, and the oil lanterns cast warm shadows. The guards greeted her kindly, to which she responded with a polite nod, although a noticeable distraction marked her face.

In the distance, near the capital's limit, she observed her home, a turquoise blue house embraced by flowers, as if the forest was trying to reclaim it. But what captured her attention was the light on the second floor: a light that refused to go out. It was her dear girl's room.

It was not uncommon. Her daughter was always studying, reading ancient scrolls or, more worryingly, planning her next "historical excavation." Lyra just sighed and, with slight heaviness, whispered a few words into the air:

"The Academy... I hope it survives the journey, and that the Academy survives her."

With that thought, she adjusted the strap of her bag and turned toward a flower stall, the cozy shop of her sister-in-law, Elara. She needed one last ingredient and, even more, a small breather and some advice.

☕ The Light of Echoes (The Conversation) 💥

Lyra entered her sister-in-law's shop, "The Light of Echoes," which smelled of polished wood and oriental spices. Elara was calmly polishing an old rolled-up map on the cedar counter.

ELARA (Notices her presence and greets her with emotion and joy):

"Lyra! Look what I got for my beautiful girl: a lovely map from the era of the first explorations into the forest. This will make her jump for joy!"

Lyra dropped her things onto the counter with a loud clinking of metal.

LYRA:

"Elara, what was the last thing I asked you to do?"

ELARA (Pauses to think):

"To stop eating so many cupcakes?"

LYRA (Raises a hand, denying):

"No, that wasn't it. I told you to stop getting relics for my daughter. That girl is dangerous."

Elara ignores the plea and places the map in Lyra's bag.

ELARA:

"Oh, come on, Lyra. You worry too much. Our little one has what we call 'the nature of a Macktrel'."

Lyra sits down, resting her head on the counter with a gesture of exhaustion. Elara looks at her, and doesn't hesitate to ask.

ELARA:

"What has you so thoughtful?" (She says this while preparing the coffee Lyra always asks for).

LYRA (Responds wearily):

"The light, Elara. The light in her room. She left it on again. It's so late. I know she's reading, I know she's planning... and that's what worries me."

ELARA:

"She's fine. She's working. It's her nature. You can never stop the curiosity of our clan."

LYRA (Lifts her head, but without moving it from the counter):

"She is nothing like the rest of the clan. She has an enormous curiosity about everything and an unlimited energy reserve."

Elara slides the glass of coffee across the table.

ELARA:

"Tomorrow is the great ceremony, isn't it?"

LYRA (Lifts her head to warm her hands with the mug):

"That's right. Tomorrow is the big day when my girl can finally define her path. I understand this ritual is extremely important, but Elara... just thinking that she will be in the Academy, alone..." (She shudders). "I dread what might happen."

ELARA (Laughs softly):

"You worry too much. She won't make the Academy end up flying through the skies."

LYRA (Looks at Elara with determination):

"But Elara, that's exactly why I dread it! Everything at the Academy is strict, disciplined, and rigid. It's the most important part of her training. But my darling is not like them. My girl is more like an explosion of colors. She is a disaster just waiting for the perfect moment to cause chaos. Her obsession with the past... that relentless determination to unearth the origin of everything, is going to end with our heritage or someone else's. It will drive us to bankruptcy!"

Elara nods, placing the berries in the bag.

ELARA:

"It is true that your daughter can be described as a tornado, but that's how young Macktrels are: full of energy and courage." (She presses her fist with pride). "She is not a scatterbrained child, Lyra. She is a tireless seeker of the Macktrel truth. Trust, Lyra. The Academy needs that kind of passion."

LYRA (Looks at Elara ironically, a fleeting thought crosses her mind: «It’s obvious that she truly adores her niece’s determination or she’s too cheerful to notice the chaos she causes.»):

"Uh-huh. And that passion is what makes her a magnet for chaos. The last thing we need is for her to unearth an ancient weapon in the middle of sports class and turn her entire class into vegetables. We've had enough archaeological disasters." (She begins to count on her fingers).

Elara begins to sip her coffee, anticipating the story.

LYRA:

"There was that time she was looking for an old entrance to an underground museum of the first founders. She was convinced she would make the greatest discovery. She found the key, opened the door, and, boommm!" (She raises her arms in an explosion gesture). "A river current floods the market. She had opened the sluice gate of an underground water warehouse."

ELARA (Laughs heartily, remembering the disaster):

"The Flood of Maester Doran, that's right! About twenty centimeters of water flooded the market that day. I had the largest number of customers looking for unique products to prevent their feet from getting soaked! I remember Mr. Doran chasing his potions as they floated downstream."

LYRA:

"I saw Mr. Doran floating on his umbrella outside my window. We had to pay for the door repair and damages. And that wasn't all! There's that fiasco of 'The Crime of the Sacred Dust'." (She counts again).

ELARA:

"That story is very good! When my girl wanted to prove that the offerings of the Foundational Festival contained extinct seeds of the Aukumar trees?"

LYRA (Points at Elara):

"That's right. She broke the seal of the oldest ceremonial urn, the one made by the founders of our clan, with a garden shovel! And, surprise, surprise! There wasn't a single seed. Only a huge cloud of millenary reddish dust that gave the entire guard chronic sneezes for a week. Mr. Doran got the worst of it, the dust fell all over his face. He was red-faced for a whole month!"

ELARA (Leans on the counter, amused):

"The Academy had to close the west wing because of the allergies. But thanks to that, we know the dust isn't toxic, just irritating. Empirical research in action!"

LYRA:

"Research that cost us a fine for 'Profanation of Minor Relic'! And the time she tried to recreate a bread recipe of the first Macktrels, the one that uses 'earth essence'?"

ELARA:

"Ah, 'The Ash Bread'. It tasted like a brick! But your daughter miscalculated the fermentation, right?"

LYRA:

"No, Elara. She miscalculated the oven. She tried to use the metal foundry oven of the local guild, arguing that the ancient Macktrels didn't have common wood ovens. The bread solidified into a mass meteorite that we had to take out with hammers, and now there is a permanent crater in the wall of the Blacksmith's Guild."

ELARA (Smiles, nostalgic):

"What a treasure. See? Each of those disasters is proof of her passion. The Academy won't break her. They'll just... have to invest in better insurance. Your girl is not a threat, Lyra. She is a force of nature, and of History. It's a shame that History is so flammable around her."

LYRA (Gives up, dropping her head into her hands):

"A force of nature dragging a past of disasters, right? May the Aukumus protect us all!"

Elara looks at the clock.

ELARA:

"Oh, but it's so late, we must close now."

Lyra looks at the clock and realizes she is late.

LYRA:

"Ohhh, it's late! (She drinks the coffee in one gulp and grabs the bag). Thanks, Elara."

But the bag is so heavy with the provisions and the new map that Lyra is slightly dragged to the floor by its weight.

LYRA (Whispers):

"Ugh, it's heavy."

ELARA (Says goodbye):

"Say hello to my little one."

The Transition and the Link to the Protagonist

Lyra left the shop. A current of air hit hard, lifting dry leaves. Our journey begins with those leaves, floating at great speed, flying over houses and rooftops, carried by the wind. The fastest leaf heads towards the center of the capital, near the boundary, towards the turquoise blue house.

The leaf struck the bedroom window. The window, which was poorly closed, opened with tremendous force under the impact of the wind and the leaf, finally revealing the interior.

(The scene fades and the focus moves inside the room.)

💨 The Cradle of Truth

The bang was deafening. The wind shattered the fragile tranquility with a violent slam. A whirlwind of air took over the room, lifting papers, maps, scrolls, blueprints, and any relic that crossed its path.

However, in the midst of that chaos, a figure remained motionless.

Our adventurer was staring intently at a huge blackboard, ignoring the paper storm around her. Lenses larger than her face were fixed on her research. Her eyes, one a deep blue and the other a bright light brown, scrutinized every line.

The girl, standing 1.65 cm tall, with brown hair adorned with two purple braids and a small feather as an ornament, recited fervently. Her slightly prominent rodent teeth and two silver earrings made her stand out, but her true light resided in her love and passion for history.

"I am the truth of what no one accepts. The mystery of our past, you are the key. You only have to search in what you have always had, but bestow this upon those who have never felt it. Arkav-Skyr-Kóde."

She pointed a finger at the map drawn on the blackboard.

"Something is still missing. It's something small, but if I discover it, I will finally be able to release the truth. But I still don't know what it is that I am missing."

She slumped into her chair, exhausted. The papers continued to fly like a flock of paper birds, but she could only look at that word and a strange symbol next to it. The concept of "Skyr-Kóde" made no sense in her world, where everything worked with Sinia energy.

"AHHHHHHH! I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE, I GIVE UP!" —yelled Kap Altus.

A voice resonated from the floor below: a huge shout from her mother that seemed to wake her from a trance.

—KAP!

Kap Altus jumped in shock.

KAP (Shouting):

"Ahhhhhh! What a fright!"

Her mother's voice, Lyra, echoed throughout the room, and the sound of her ascent thundered formidably on the stairs. As her mother advanced, Kap could hear her reciting:

LYRA (Resonant voice):

"Kap! But what are you doing awake? You should be asleep by now! It's too late and you have the ceremony tomorrow!"

Kap was sweating cold. More importantly, she realized that the room was in total chaos, and the wind storm was still blowing everything around.

KAP (In her mind):

«This is terrible. If Mom sees the room a mess, I will get an exemplary punishment!»

She ran to the window to close it, but in her panic, the sudden movement caused one of the flowerpots on the balcony to fall. She didn't have time to think about it.

Outside, Mr. Doran (the same one with the pirated herbs and the red face) was on his way home. The flowerpot fell directly onto his head with a dull thud, making him faint instantly.

Kap tried to quickly pick up everything at lightning speed, grabbing maps and papers that were floating. She hid the blackboard behind a pile of books, but in the hurry, her glasses fell to the floor, sliding under the desk. Kap bent down to pick them up.

Just at that moment, Kap's mother was finishing climbing the stairs, where she ran into Kap's older brother, Mark, who was coming out of his room to go to the bathroom.

MARK:

"Hi, Mom. Why do you look so upset?"

LYRA:

"Why do you think I'm like this? Your sister is about to cause another disaster!"

At that moment, a huge thud was heard from Kap's room (Kap had hit her head against the desk while bending down). The mother and brother quickly entered, worried.

Upon entering, they only saw Kap standing, with a huge disarming smile and, miraculously, the room clean and tidy. However, they noticed that she was wearing a wide-brimmed explorer's hat.

LYRA:

"What is that hat for?"

Mark, behind his mother, looked confused, not daring to speak.

KAP:

"Ah, this... I was just trying on what I'll wear for the big day tomorrow."

MARK:

"So what was that noise?"

KAP (With total innocence):

"What noise are you talking about? I think you're imagining things, little brother."

LYRA:

"Whatever, I don't want to know any more." (Her mother extended her hand and gave her the map Elara had given her). "Your Aunt Elara sent it to you."

Kap took it, and her eyes sparkled with excitement.

KAP:

"Ahhhhhhh, this is amazing!"

MARK (Looking at the map with envy):

"Wait, and she didn't give anything to me?"

LYRA:

"Your sister is the favorite. Besides, you stink. Go take a shower now or you'll kill someone."

MARK (In his mind: «How cruel they are.»).

LYRA:

"By the way, Kap, I'm taking your clothes to wash them." (Kap's mother took the laundry basket). "Daughter, go to sleep, tomorrow is a very important day."

Kap nodded. Her mother closed the door.

Kap stood still for a moment until she remembered why she had put on the hat. It was the only way to cover the bump from the blow.

KAP:

"Ouch! Ouchie-ouchie-ouch! That hurt a lot."

Exhausted, Kap rubbed her head, sat down at her desk, and opened the map.

KAP:

"So this is one of the maps the explorers created..."

But Kap's face was filled with worry as she looked at the scroll. She leaned back against the desk, and her last words before succumbing to exhaustion were:

KAP:

"I'll tell Dad to change that window..."

The leaf that had flown into her room was now right in front of her, but she didn't pay attention. She closed her eyes, and sleep consumed her.

🌅 The Impossible Quest

Kap Altus extended her hand, and the texture she felt was strangely familiar. She opened her eyes and discovered that she was no longer in her room. Now she was in a huge open field, and it was broad daylight.

KAP (Shouts, her voice broken by the panic of imminent punishment):

"Mom, what kind of joke is this! I'm sorry!" (Tears begin to flow). "Dad, I'm sorry for breaking your favorite mug! I've been exiled! Now I'll be a hermit, I'll have to hunt for my food and live among the trees..." (She cries with a drama that came naturally to her). "Waaahhhhh!"

She looked up at the sky and, despite her dramatic tears, a sincere smile appeared on her lips.

KAP:

"Well, at least I have these beautiful views."

Just then, she saw a column of smoke rising in the distance. Curiosity was stronger than her sorrow. A bird crossed the sky at high speed, and Kap, as if driven by an indomitable instinct, got up. She decided to follow it.