There was no road.
Only mory pretending to be one.
After the Remnant's death, the Threadrift warped. The glass garden dissolved into ash. The sky fractured into lines. With each step forward, Raen felt like he was walking into the spine of a forgotten god.
Ashveil said nothing. But his body tensed with every pulse of the place.
Solace, for once, slept. Curled beneath Raen's collar, twitching with dreams.
Keir had grown quieter too. The usual sarcasm was there—but wrapped in uncertainty, like he could feel it too: sothing was coming.
Sothing that had Raen's scent.
"We're getting close, aren't we?" Keir finally asked.
Raen nodded. "Close to what?"
Raen's hand tightened around his blade.
"To why I ca back."
---
They passed through a veil of bone, soft as cloth.
On the other side, the world changed.
No longer shifting. No longer abstract.
It was real.
A city. Broken, half-swallowed by the Threadrift—but still standing.
Massive towers leaned like wilted trees. Roads paved with blackstone twisted into spirals. At the center, a throne of shattered mirrors stood atop a hill of whispers.
Raen's pulse slowed.
"I've been here before," he murmured.
Ashveil's ears flicked. "This place knows you."
"No," Raen said. "It rembers ."
---
They entered the dead city. It didn't resist.
If anything—it welcod him.
At every corner, statues watched. Most were headless. The few with faces were crude approximations of Raen's own.
Keir nearly tripped over a plaque that read:
> TO THE ONE WHO BETRAYED THE NALESS.
TO THE ONE WHO BROKE THE VOW OF ENDINGS.
Raen stared at the words. A sick chill coiled in his chest.
"Was this... your city?" Keir asked, voice hushed.
"No," Raen whispered.
"This was my execution."
---
They reached the hill by nightfall. The mirror throne lood above, cracked and reflecting nothing.
Raen didn't ascend imdiately.
He stood at its base, looking down at the city he didn't rember building.
Keir sat nearby, fiddling with a stone that kept shifting shape.
"Think soone's up there?" he asked, nodding toward the throne.
"Yes," Raen replied. "."
Keir blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"
Raen stepped forward. His voice was low. Controlled.
"I was here once. Long before I died. Before I made the pact. Before I beca Raen Valor."
He turned slightly. "This is the place I lost my na. The real one."
Ashveil growled low.
Keir stood. "So what happens if you sit on that throne again?"
Raen looked at the stairs. Each step bore a word etched in blood.
Pain. Hunger. Regret. Rage. Ho.
"I find out who I used to be," he said. "And maybe... who I still am."
He ascended.
---
The mont Raen's boot touched the top step, the city breathed.
A pulse rippled outward. Statues cracked. The sky warped. The glass beneath their feet shimred.
The throne awaited.
Raen approached, but didn't sit.
He reached toward it.
And the mirrors scread.
They didn't reflect him. They showed her.
---
A girl with silver eyes, burning wings, and a na too bright to hold.
She stood at the center of a burning battlefield, her hands coated in Raen's blood.
She smiled.
"So," she whispered, "you've rembered ."
Raen staggered back.
Ashveil leapt forward, snarling—but the image didn't waver.
Keir shouted sothing behind them, but Raen didn't hear.
He could only hear her.
The one he'd killed.
The one who had trusted him.
The one he had loved.
"You broke the cycle, Raen," she said. "But not the story."
She stepped forward. Her voice cracked the air.
"You're not here to escape the gods."
"You're here to beco one."
---
Raen fell to one knee.
Blood leaked from his nose. From his ears.
mories poured in like knives.
The first ti he killed.
The pact he made beneath the tree of tongues.
The na he abandoned.
And—
The betrayal that started it all.
He hadn't been born Raen Valor.
He had stolen the na of the man who murdered the gods.
---
He stood, barely.
The throne pulsed behind him.
Keir shouted his na again.
But Raen didn't turn.
The ghost of the girl—his first lie—smiled once more.
"We're waiting, Raen."
"Co find us before the others do."
The mirrors shattered.
Light bled out.
And the city scread.
---
Raen collapsed.
When he awoke, the throne was gone.
So was the city.
Only Keir, Ashveil, and Solace remained—dragging his unconscious body across a field of ash.
"You're awake," Keir muttered. "Great. You scread like a god was carving you from the inside."
Raen tried to speak.
His throat burned.
Ashveil crouched beside him.
"Your na has changed again," the beast murmured. "It's longer now. Heavier."
Raen nodded slowly.
"I rember... what I did. What I was."
Keir frowned. "And?"
Raen looked up.
His eyes were hollow.
His voice was quiet.
"I deserve to die."
---
TO BE CONTINUED.
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