Novels by Santana

The violet sky above the Edge of the Map didn’t just look old; it looked exhausted. Every few seconds, a shimmering flake of reality would peel away from the clouds and dissolve into the prismatic whirlpool below. Aetherion watched a spire—a beautiful, jagged tooth of white marble—simply lose its grip on existence and vanish."You’re staring, Aeth. It’s rude to gawk at a lady’s home when it’s having a breakdown."Zinnia’s voice was thin, stripped of the manic energy she’d brandished like a shield at the Gala. She didn't look like a rival anymore. She looked like a part of the landscape—fading, frayed, and dangerously close to the end.Aetherion didn't look away from the crumbling horizon. "It’s not just the island, is it? You’re losing your tether.""Found me out, did you? I guess the Archives aren't totally useless," Zinnia said, kicking a loose pebble into the abyss. She didn't wait for it to hit the bottom. There was no bottom. "The Everdawn wasn't just a fancy title for the Duke’s

The silence in the garden didn’t last as long as Aetherion would have liked. The rhythmic pulse of the pink timer on his wrist was a constant reminder that the "peace" was merely a commercial break in Zinnia’s scheduled programming."You're doing it again," Zinnia said, her voice cutting through the scent of jasmine."Doing what?""Thinking. I can practically hear your brain gears grinding from here. It sounds like a rusty clock."Aetherion stood up, smoothing out his robes. The moment of vulnerability—that strange, quiet connection they’d shared on the bench—was already being folded away into the back of his mind. "I have things to attend to, Zinnia. Even ‘hermits’ have a schedule.""Oh, please. You're going to go look me up, aren't you?" She grinned, leaning her head back against the marble. "You're going to go find some dusty old records to see if I’m actually the Duke of Boreas’s daughter or if I’m just a very talented hallucination.""The thought hadn't crossed my mind," Aetherio

The neon-pink numbers on Aetherion’s wrist didn't care about his dignity. They just kept ticking, a silent, glowing heartbeat that pulsed against his skin. 23:15:42. He was back in the Grand Hall, though he’d tried his best to blend into the shadows of the mezzanine."You know, for someone who claims to hate attention, you’re currently wearing a glowing beacon on your arm," a smooth, melodic voice drawled from behind a pillar.Aetherion didn't even look. He knew that specific tone of polished mischief. "Go away, Cassian. I’m in the middle of a crisis."Cassian Evermore stepped into the light, looking every bit the high-society fixture in a suit tailored from woven moonbeams. He held two flutes of something bubbling and iridescent. "A crisis? Aeth, the whole court is calling it the 'Alchemical Tryst of the Century.' I’ve heard three different versions of the story. One involves a marriage proposal, one involves a duel, and the third—my personal favorite—claims you two are planning to o

The neon-pink numbers burned against the pale skin of Aetherion’s wrist, a relentless digital heartbeat counting down the final seconds.00:00:03… 00:00:02… 00:00:01…The timer vanished with a soft, mocking ping, replaced by a tiny, glowing map that pulsed right over his radial artery. It pointed directly toward the Spire of Transmutation, the personal workshop of Marius Celestine, the most high-strung alchemist in the known dimensions."Well, at least she has taste in real estate," Aetherion muttered, adjusting the collar of his fresh, thankfully non-singing robes.He didn't bother with the door. He stepped through the physical threshold of the tower, his molecules briefly blurring as he bypassed the enchantments that would have vaporized a lesser immortal.The air inside the lab smelled of ozone, burnt sugar, and impending disaster."Marius? If you’re being held hostage, blink twice. If you’re helping her, I’m cutting your funding for the next three eons," Aetherion called out, his

Aetherion didn't walk toward the stairs. That would have taken too long, and the high-pitched singing emanating from his armpits was rapidly eroding his legendary patience. Instead, he simply exhaled, and the space between the ballroom floor and the floating balcony folded like a discarded napkin.In a flicker of midnight-blue-turned-neon-pink, he appeared directly in front of the group of young immortals.The laughter died down, replaced by a tense, excited silence. The youth in the center—a girl with hair that shifted through the colors of a bruised sunset and eyes that sparkled with far too much caffeine—didn't look afraid. She looked like she had just won the lottery."You’ve got to be kidding me," Aetherion said, his voice flat. He raised an arm, and the glitter on his sleeve immediately began a four-part harmony of a nursery rhyme. "Is this supposed to be a joke? Or is 'disruptive art' just a fancy way of saying you never grew out of your toddler phase?"The girl grinned, leanin

The collapse of the star K-204 was supposed to be the event of the century. As the core buckled and the outer layers ignited into a blinding, violet-hued blossom of cosmic fire, the shockwave rippled through the fabric of space-time, rattling the very foundations of the nearby nebulae.Aetherion Valerius sat on a floating shard of obsidian, his chin resting in the palm of his hand, eyes half-lidded."Is that it?" Aetherion muttered, his voice echoing in the vacuum through a localized atmosphere bubble. "I mean, the purple is a nice touch, but the explosion itself felt a bit... rushed.""Rushed? It’s a supernova, Aeth. It takes exactly as long as physics dictates."Aetherion didn't even turn his head. He knew that voice. It was a voice that carried the weight of eons but currently sounded like it belonged to a teenager who had just found a particularly interesting rock."Physics is a bore, Therion," Aetherion said, finally glancing at the man who had just materialized beside him. "You’