The storm had ended, but silence was never meant to be this heavy.
All around Elarion, the wind refused to move, as if the world itself held its breath for the Starborn who had lost everything.
Aiden stood at the edge of Kaelith's Abyss, the place where Lyra had fallen. The air shimmered with phantom light — fragments of her magic lingering like dying fireflies. He could still feel her pulse in the shard embedded in his chest, weak but there.
"You're still somewhere… I can feel you," he whispered, his voice barely holding together.
The Crimson Shard pulsed in answer — but this time its glow wasn't crimson. It was a fractured hue of gold and black, the mark of something that had crossed the boundary of life.
Aiden knew what it meant.
Lyra was trapped in the Veil Between Worlds — the realm where souls drifted before fading into nothing.
And there was only one way to reach her: walk into death and hope it didn't consume him.
The Descent
The air thickened as Aiden stepped into the abyss.
No sound, no wind — just the sensation of falling through liquid night. His body dissolved into streaks of light as the laws of the mortal world collapsed around him.
When he opened his eyes again, he was standing in a world of shadows breathing light.
The Realm of the Veil wasn't darkness — it was a sea of shifting colors, silver mists curling around forgotten memories. Mountains floated like islands in the sky, rivers of starlight wound through endless plains, and at the center of it all, a colossal tree rose from the void — its roots glowing faintly blue.
The Eternal Tree of Whispers.
It was said every soul that ever lived passed through its roots.
Aiden could hear faint voices echoing in the air — laughter, cries, promises, betrayals — fragments of every life ever lived, repeating endlessly.
He whispered, "Lyra… where are you?"
A soft voice answered from the mist:
"She walks where light cannot follow."
A figure emerged — cloaked, faceless, carrying a lantern that flickered like a dying star.
The Keeper of the Veil.
"You do not belong here, Starborn," the Keeper spoke, voice like a thousand echoes. "You still breathe."
"I need her," Aiden said, his voice trembling. "She's part of me."
"She was light, and you are flame. Her soul has entered the lower Veil — the Rift of Forgotten Names. No mortal has ever returned from there."
"I'm not mortal."
The Keeper tilted its head, almost in pity. "No. You're cursed. You bear Elyndra's blood — and her burden."
With that, it raised its lantern, and the air split open — revealing a bridge of floating runes leading into the darkness below.
"Follow the whispers. But beware, Aiden Dray — every step you take deeper into the Veil will cost you a memory of her."
Aiden's eyes hardened. "Then I'll remember her with my soul instead."
And he walked forward.
The Realm of Lost Echoes
The bridge led him to a valley filled with mirrors — each one reflecting a different version of Lyra.
In one, she was laughing under moonlight.
In another, she was crying, clutching his hand as the curse spread.
And in one, she was already gone — her body lifeless, her eyes empty.
The mirrors whispered, "You could have saved her."
Aiden clenched his fists. "I tried—"
"You failed."
The whispers grew louder, turning into screams. The mirrors cracked, bleeding light, until the shards formed into shadows with faces — faces of those he couldn't save: soldiers, children, even his own mother.
He fought through them, the shard's energy flaring violently. Golden fire erupted from his palms, searing through the illusions. But with every blast, a memory faded — the way Lyra smiled, the sound of her laughter, the warmth of her touch.
Still, he pushed forward.
Because stopping meant losing her forever.
The River of Names
Hours — or centuries — later, he reached the River of Forgotten Names.
It glowed crimson, flowing backward in time. Every drop was a lost soul, whispering their names in voices that sounded like weeping wind. At the far end of the river stood an altar of black glass — and on it, Lyra's pendant.
Aiden stumbled toward it, his knees buckling. The pendant glowed faintly, and within it, her voice murmured — soft, broken, distant:
"Aiden… don't follow me here. You'll lose yourself."
He reached for it anyway. "I already have."
The moment his fingers touched the pendant, the river exploded upward.
Thousands of faces screamed — souls rising, swirling, merging into one monstrous form.
The Wraith of the Veil — a guardian born from grief itself.
It towered above him, a creature made of wings, eyes, and sorrow. Every time it moved, the world wept.
"You seek one soul," it thundered. "But how many have you forsaken?"
Aiden lifted his blade, drenched in light and blood. "Only one mattered."
The wraith's scream shattered the air. Shadows lunged toward him, wrapping around his limbs, whispering secrets of despair. But Aiden's eyes burned gold as he released all restraint — the Starborn fire consuming the darkness.
Each strike carved through eternity. Each breath tore a hole in reality.
When the wraith finally fell, silence returned — except for one faint heartbeat coming from the pendant.
The Soul of Lyra
A figure began to form in the light above the river — delicate, faint, radiant.
Lyra.
Her spirit hovered there, eyes filled with tears.
"Aiden… you shouldn't have come."
"I told you, I'd find you anywhere," he whispered, stepping closer.
Her hand reached out — and he could feel her again, soft and warm, though faint as smoke.
But the Keeper's voice echoed through the realm:
"If she stays, the Veil will collapse. One soul must remain — yours or hers."
Aiden froze.
Lyra shook her head. "No… I won't let you do this."
He smiled, tears glistening. "You always said I was stubborn."
She pressed her forehead to his. "And I always loved that about you."
The shard in his chest began to crack. Energy flooded around them, binding their souls together.
He kissed her — one last time — as the world broke apart in blinding white light.
The Return
When Aiden awoke, he was lying in the ruins of the Temple again. The air smelled of rain and ash.
In his hand, Lyra's pendant was whole — but glowing with faint gold light.
She wasn't gone.
She was within him.
Her voice whispered softly inside his mind:
"You found me… and now, I'll help you finish this."
Aiden stood, his eyes now shimmering gold and black — Starborn and Shadow both.
The dawn had returned, but the sky carried streaks of blood-red clouds — a warning of what was coming.
Kaelith's sigil burned brighter in the heavens.
The war between light and corruption was no longer prophecy — it had begun.