The rain didn't stop that night.
It only grew heavier, beating against the windows until the world outside blurred into a wall of gray.
Leira sat on the edge of the couch, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. The light beneath her skin had faded again, but she could still feel it humming softly in her veins, like something alive and waiting.
Kael moved around the room, checking the locks, his movements sharp and deliberate. He kept glancing outside, as if he could see something through the storm that she couldn't. The sound of metal against wood, the faint creak of floorboards every noise made the air feel thinner.
For a long time, neither of them spoke. The rain filled the silence until it felt like another presence in the room.
Then Leira finally said, her voice steady but low, "You said my name is a weapon. What kind of weapon?"
Kael stopped what he was doing. For a moment, the only sound was the rain and the faint hum of the lights. He turned slowly, eyes shadowed, his expression unreadable.
"Not the kind forged by hands," he said. "Your name isn't made of metal or magic. It's made of memory, and memory can cut deeper than any blade."
Leira frowned slightly. "Memory?"
Kael nodded, stepping closer. "Your name isn't just who you are, it's what holds the worlds apart. It's the seal that keeps the veil steady. When you speak it, or even when the veil reacts to your presence, it remembers everything tied to you, who you were, what you did, the balance you once kept. That's what makes it powerful. And dangerous."
She hesitated, thinking of the shadow that had attacked them in the apartment. "So… what happened earlier? When that light came out of me. Was that because of my name?"
Kael studied her for a moment before answering. "It was the veil," he said quietly. "It's bound to your name. When that creature tried to touch you, the veil reacted through you. It protected its keeper. But every time it does that, the seal weakens a little more."
Leira's stomach turned. "Weakens? How?"
"Your name anchors the veil," he explained, his tone steady but edged with concern. "When it acts on its own, when it defends you without your control, it draws power from the seal that binds it. Think of it as a reflex, not a command. The more it happens, the more the connection frays. If you don't remember your name soon, if you don't restore that bond consciously, the veil will keep defending you until it breaks entirely."
She swallowed hard. "And if it breaks?"
Kael's gaze darkened. "Then the shadows won't just find you, they'll flood through you. The worlds will touch again, and there'll be nothing left to hold them apart."
The room felt colder after that. Leira stared at her hands, remembering the way the light had burned through her skin, the way the creature had screamed before disappearing. "So… my name is keeping everything together."
He nodded. "You are the seal and the key at the same time. You were born from the veil, and now it's bleeding through you. That's why it glows. It remembers what you've forgotten."
For a moment, Leira didn't move. The weight of his words pressed against her chest, heavy and unfamiliar. The silence stretched between them again, thicker than before, filled with things neither of them wanted to say aloud.
Then the ground trembled beneath them. It started faint, like a heartbeat under the floorboards, then deepened into a low, rolling pulse. The lamps flickered once, twice, then steadied again, humming like they were afraid to go out.
Leira's breath caught. "That is not normal…is it?"
Kael turned toward the window, his jaw tightening. "They're moving."
"The shadows?"
He nodded once. "They've found you."
Leira's pulse quickened. She rose to her feet, her hands trembling. "How do we stop them?"
"We don't," Kael said, crossing the room in three quick strides. He grabbed her wrist, his voice low and urgent. "We run."
The back door swung open with a groan, and cold air rushed in, sharp and wet, carrying the scent of earth and storm.
They plunged into the night.
Rain soaked through her hair, plastered her clothes to her skin. The ground was slick beneath her boots as Kael pulled her along the narrow path that led away from the city and into the trees.
Behind them, the sound followed; soft, whispering, wrong. The kind of whisper that wasn't made by wind, but by something that remembered the shape of words.
"Kael," she panted, struggling to keep up, "where are we going?"
"To the only place they can't enter."
"And where's that?"
"The temple," he said without turning. "The one you built."
She almost stumbled. "What?"
Kael didn't slow down. "You built it, Leira. In another life. And if you ever want to remember who you are, that's where we start."
The forest swallowed them whole, trees stretching high and black against a bruised sky. The path narrowed, twisting like a memory trying to hide itself.
Behind them, the whispers grew louder, closer, the kind of sound that made her bones feel cold.
Kael squeezed her hand once, firm and steady. "Don't look back."
Leira didn't. But she could feel them, the shadows slipping through the rain, bending around trees, drawn toward the pulse that lived beneath her skin.
The temple rose in the distance, half-hidden by mist, its dark stone walls breathing faint traces of light. It looked less like a building and more like a wound carved into the earth.
Leira's steps slowed as they neared.
Kael glanced at her, his eyes reflecting the faint glow under her skin. "Do you trust me?" he asked, looking her deep in her eyes.
Leira studied his face. For a fleeting moment, she thought she saw something move in his expression, not fear, not relief, but recognition. Like a man seeing the ghost of someone he'd already lost. She nodded once.
The rain hissed around them. The air felt thick and alive.
Kael reached for the heavy door, his voice barely a whisper. "Stay close. The moment we step through, the world might start remembering you too."
The temple door opened with a groan, stone grinding against stone.
Leira hesitated at the threshold, her heart pounding so loud she could barely hear the rain anymore.
She looked at Kael. His blade caught a flicker of light, his face set with quiet resolve. He nodded once.
Together, they stepped inside.
The air shifted; heavy, electric, aware.
Something ancient stirred in the dark, and Leira knew, with sudden, terrifying clarity, that whatever waited beyond that door hadn't forgotten her at all.