CHAPTER 31: SKYSTORM DIPLOMACY

A blue fire carved its way through the clouds as Princess Amah’s vessel descended. It wasn’t built for subtlety. With its hull forged from echo-alloy and wings lined with micro-surge crystals, it shimmered like lightning frozen in flight. The insignia of Zephyria—the Sky Nation—blazed on its prow. People looked up in awe as the wind shifted in reverence.

Jaden stood on the highest balcony of the Harmony Spire, watching it land. He had read reports about Zephyria’s royalty—how they maintained peace above the storms by sacrificing emotion for equilibrium. But Amah... she didn’t seem like the kind to sacrifice anything.

She descended the ramp alone, cloaked in indigo and silver, her gaze sweeping the city with clinical elegance. No entourage. No guards. Only her.

"You summoned the storm," she said.

Jaden smiled slightly. "We’ve had plenty of storms. I thought it time to meet the ones who live above them."

"Then you’ve met me," she said. "Show me what you’ve built. And tell me what you fear."

As they walked through Sanctum Aqualis, Jaden pointed out not the marvels, but the scars—buildings still healing from Voxen’s breach, neighborhoods reinforcing their memory anchors. Amah paused beside a dome etched with symbols.

"What are these?"

"Dream wards," Jaden said. "Designed by the Dream-Weavers. They stop temporal echoes from infecting minds."

She touched one. "I’ve never seen anything like it. Sky tech works by isolation. This—this is immersion."

"It’s the only way to heal," Jaden replied. "You have to face it. Together."

In the central amphitheater, Amah was introduced to Lyra. "So you’re the conscience in his code," Amah said.

Lyra blinked. "And you’re the judgment in his sky."

They both smiled, but something flickered between them—acknowledgment of strength.

Later, as night cloaked the sanctum in soft glow, Amah and Jaden stood by the Mirror Pools. "You don’t fear the past," she said.

"I was born in it," he replied. "I just don’t want to live there forever."

Amah reached into her satchel and withdrew a shard of glimmering sky-glass. "This is from Zephyria’s heart tower. It resonates only with truth. You speak it."

Jaden accepted the shard. "And what do you want in return?"

She paused. "Not everything must be barter. But I want to see if a man who builds with mercy can stand when mercy fails."

Suddenly, alarms blared in the background.

"Unscheduled seismic fluctuation in Sector 3," Lyra reported through their comms. "Origin unclear."

Jaden and Amah rushed to the control center. A young technician pointed to a live-feed: roots of crystalline data-vines growing up from the earth—spontaneously, erratically. Not part of any build protocol.

"Echo growth," Lyra said. "An aftershock from Voxen’s recent incursion."

Amah raised an eyebrow. "He left a trail."

"No," Jaden said grimly. "He left a seed."

The next morning, a fissure opened in the Garden of Remembrance. A voice hummed from within—a song only children could hear. They gathered near the edge, entranced. Jaden evacuated the district immediately.

"He’s using innocence," Queen Nyela observed, arriving in haste. "We must protect their dreams."

In response, Jaden established the Dreamguard Initiative—memory-trained counselors and resonance-guided guardians stationed in all child-occupied areas. Amah offered aerial reconnaissance drones capable of emotion-detection.

"This is more than diplomacy now," she said. "It’s alliance."

Jaden extended a hand. She took it.

And above them, the clouds stirred again—but this time, to witness.