POV: Prince Aldric Voss

The King's Council Chamber was aptly named. Perched in the highest spire of the Sky Citadel, it offered panoramic views of Aeridor's sprawling districts, a dizzying tapestry of polished steel and verdant sky-gardens. But today, the only wind in the chamber was the frigid current of dissent.

Prince Aldric Voss, Captain of the Sky Guard, stood by the massive viewport, his posture a study in practiced stillness. Below, the city bustled, unaware of the crisis brewing in the rarified air of the royal chambers. His gaze drifted to the distant gleam of Tether Station Seven, a tiny, almost invisible speck on the horizon. He’d heard the whispers of a "persistent tremor" and seen the frantic energy from the tether crews. It was just another crack in the foundations, both literal and metaphorical.

"—and as such, Your Majesty, it is clear that the rationing measures are insufficient!" Maven Rix's voice, resonant and passionate, cut through the chamber. The leader of the "Descent" movement stood before the king's elevated dais, flanked by a dozen of his most vocal supporters, their faces etched with a mixture of desperation and righteous anger. "Our reserves of Hydran-algae are at a seventeen-cycle low! The filtration systems for atmospheric moisture are failing! Do we wait until our children starve or choke before we admit the truth?"

Aldric shifted his weight, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of his ceremonial sword. King Voss, his father, sat enthroned, a study in regal stoicism, though the lines of fatigue around his eyes were deeper than usual. Beside him, Crown Prince Garrett Voss, Aldric’s older brother, radiated a palpable impatience. Garrett, Commander of the Royal Guard, believed in order, in tradition, and in ruthless efficiency. He saw Maven Rix not as a voice of the people, but as a dangerous radical.

"Master Rix, your theatrics are tiresome," Garrett interjected, his voice a low growl that held the weight of command. "The people are fed. They are housed. There are difficulties, yes, but to suggest a full collapse is fear-mongering."

"Fear-mongering?" Rix's laugh was sharp, devoid of humor. "Go to the Outer Districts, Prince Garrett. See the breadlines. See the Sky-Weavers begging for scraps. See the children with the hollow eyes. This kingdom is dying, and your 'solutions' are simply to tighten the noose."

A murmur of agreement rippled through Rix's supporters. The other members of the Council – the dour Grand Admiral, the cautious Minister of Commerce, the perpetually anxious Head of Archives (Sage Elara was rarely present for these volatile meetings) – exchanged uneasy glances.

Aldric stepped forward. "Maven Rix has a point, brother. While his methods may be… unorthodox, the suffering of the Outer Districts is undeniable. The King's personal guard has seized over half the recent harvest for the Citadel. This cannot continue."

Garrett's eyes, sharp and cold, fixed on Aldric. "You dare question His Majesty’s decrees, little brother? Such measures are necessary for the stability of the kingdom. We are in a time of crisis. Loyalty and discipline are paramount, not hand-wringing."

"Loyalty is not blind obedience, Garrett," Aldric countered, his voice steady. He knew he was walking a fine line. He loved his family, but he couldn't stand idly by while their kingdom withered. "Our people are losing faith, not just in the system, but in us. We need new solutions, not simply more stringent enforcement of old ones."

King Voss finally spoke, his voice surprisingly firm. "Enough. The tethers are our lifeblood. Without them, there is no Aeridor. Chief Engineer Thorne has reported concerning anomalies on Tether Seven. That is our immediate priority. All resources are to be diverted to her department for analysis and repair."

Garrett nodded, a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. "A wise decision, Father. Stability first."

Maven Rix, however, scoffed. "Tethers? Are we to patch the holes while the entire ship sinks? The only real solution is to return to the surface! Reconnect with the world below! Stop clinging to a dying way of life!"

The chamber erupted. Guards moved to contain Rix’s agitated followers. Aldric felt a familiar ache in his chest. Reconnecting with the world below. It was a dream he harbored, a secret hope that clashed with centuries of doctrine. He’d lost his betrothed, Lyra, on a failed expedition attempt years ago, one of many desperate, unauthorized dives into the cloud sea that had ended in disaster. Yet, the longing persisted.

“Silence!” King Voss boomed, slamming a fist on his armrest. “The surface is dead! A poisoned wasteland! It is the reason we Ascended! To even speak of returning is treasonous folly!”

“Folly, Your Majesty, or fear?” Rix retorted, undeterred by the guards closing in. “You cling to ancient lies while your people suffer! The truth of what happened below, why we truly fled, is hidden from us! But the world calls to us! I hear it! You hear it too, Aldric, don’t you?”

All eyes swung to Aldric. He hesitated, caught between the King’s unyielding dogma and Rix’s desperate truth. He had always been the dutiful son, the loyal captain. But the world was changing. The air was thin, the resources scarce, and the tremors were growing stronger.

"I hear the cries of our people, Maven Rix," Aldric said, his voice carrying surprising weight. "And if the answers aren't above us, then perhaps we must, at the very least, look below."

Garrett glared, his face darkening. "You are bordering on sedition, brother."

Aldric met his gaze, unflinching. "I am bordering on survival. And so is Aeridor."

The King, weary and conflicted, waved a hand, dismissing Maven Rix and his followers, who were led away under guard, still shouting their defiance. The council meeting dissolved into a flurry of murmurs and anxious whispers.

Aldric remained by the viewport, watching the distant speck of Tether Station Seven. Kira Thorne, he knew, was down there, grappling with a dying world. And up here, in the gilded cage of the Citadel, they were grappling with a dying idea. The King clung to the past, Garrett to power, and Maven Rix to a desperate hope.

Aldric just wanted to save his people. And he was starting to realize that to do so, he might have to break every tradition, challenge every lie, and defy the very brother he was sworn to protect. The political storm had begun, and it threatened to tear Aeridor apart long before the tethers gave way.