Chapter 69: The Mercy of Silence

  The chaos vanished, snapping the world back into a stillness that felt brittle.

  A whistling breeze drifted across the clearing. It carried a mechanical rhythm, a cadence that felt crafted and wrong, yet it brushed against Aeor's skin with a persistent, gentle touch.

  He remained on his knees, lungs burning as he pulled in the thin air. Above, the cerulean flames and the suffocating presence of the Hollow Sovereign had been pulled back into the dark. In their place, a tapestry of alien stars lay draped across the sky.

  Beside him, Dregor was a slumped silhouette of exhaustion, fingers buried in the soil, anchoring himself to the ground. He did not look up.

  Further back, Zoey stood like a statue. Her eyes remained locked on the empty space where the reality fragment had hovered only moments before. Her jaw was tight, posture braced for a threat that was no longer there. The others were scattered in various states of collapse, faces turned toward the strange constellations, rendered mute by the transition.

  No one spoke. The weight of the Hollow Sovereign's crown still seemed to press upon their minds, a lingering shadow that even the rhythmic breeze could not wash away.

  "We have to move."

  Korren's voice cut through the quiet. "We cannot stay in this place."

  The words shattered the trance. One by one, eyes turned toward him. Korren lingered on the distant, jagged stars a moment longer, then tore his gaze away to address the group.

  "Do we truly mean to flee after coming this far?" Kayneth asked.

  "I am not suggesting a retreat, Lady Kayneth," Korren replied. "I am suggesting we press deeper into whatever this land has become until we reach Sar'Vareth."

  Kayneth looked around the clearing, assessing the battered forms in front of her.

  "It might be a better call to rest before we venture further." Her shoulders stiffened as she tried to reclaim her composure. "The intensity of this reality storm could grow stronger the further we travel. We are in no condition to weather another surge."

  "On the contrary, perhaps depth offers stability," Velora said. Her skeletal frame trembled faintly, but her voice carried its usual clinical calm. "To me, it seems we are caught within the border of an altered reality where Existence has not yet fully exerted its claim. Moving inward may lead to calmer ground."

  "It is still a risk," Kayneth insisted. "We do not know what lies ahead."

  "I do not think any amount of rest will make us ready for what we just saw," Dregor said. He remained grounded, his voice a low rumble.

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  The wind whistled again, louder this time. No one offered a rebuttal.

  "We know the fragments appear here," Zoey said as Baron leapt into her arms. "If there's a chance they won't follow us deeper, we should take it. Even if that means leaving now."

  Kayneth considered the words before giving a sharp nod. She turned to Aeor. "How far is Sar'Vareth?"

  Despite the steady voices his companions tried to maintain, the dread beneath their words was palpable. Aeor was no different. Words could not do justice to the sight he had just seen. He had believed that such entities could exist within the Archives, but experiencing the physical weight of one was entirely different.

  "It is hard to say," Aeor answered at last. "I barely recognize these lands. Distance may be altered here. If I judge by the darkness we crossed, perhaps three or four hours by air."

  "Not all of us can fly, Aeor," Zoey said, her gaze shifting to him. "And we haven't seen our avians since we entered this place."

  The word hit him like a physical blow.

  Avians?

  Aeor froze. He looked at Zoey, searching for a sign of a joke, a trick of the light, anything.

  There was no humor in her eyes. Only fear.

  A cold thought surfaced. She believes it.

  He looked at the others. Dregor, Velora, Kayneth. None of them frowned. None of them looked confused by her choice of words.

  He had to be sure.

  "Have none of you seen them?" Aeor asked, forcing his voice to remain steady. He shaped the lie deliberately, testing its weight. "The avians we rode in on?"

  He waited for someone, anyone, to correct him. To ask why he was calling the majestic Wyrmkin by the name of common beasts.

  One by one, they simply shook their heads.

  The simple gesture settled the matter.

  They had no recollection of the Wyrmkin.

  A chill ran down his spine.

  The image of the Hollow Sovereign still burned in his mind, a terror so vast it threatened to crush his sanity if he lingered on it. It was a god of bone that eclipsed the sky, a promise of absolute oblivion.

  But looking at the blank faces of his companions, a sharper, colder fear pierced through that awe.

  The Sovereign threatened to end their future. But this place... this place was erasing their past.

  He turned to Velora. "Can you fly?"

  "I have been watching you defy gravity using Death," Velora replied. "I attempted to replicate it. The results were... far from ideal."

  "But you can do it," Aeor said.

  Velora paused, then gave a slow nod.

  He turned to Dregor, who was finally pushing himself up from the ground. "What about you?"

  "Worse than her," Dregor said. "I can barely lift myself off the ground."

  Aeor shifted his gaze to Korren and Zoey. Both gave a silent shake of the head.

  Without a word, Aeor slipped the ring from his finger and tossed it to Dregor. The Dustrun caught it, locking eyes with Aeor.

  "Are you sure?" Dregor asked.

  "Movement takes priority," Aeor replied, urgency tightening his voice. He turned to Kayneth. "Can you carry Zoey?"

  "I can," Kayneth said. Then she hesitated. "But I have a question."

  "Not now." Aeor cut her off, turning his attention to Korren. "You are with me. We leave now."

  Aeor adjusted the pack on his shoulders and started toward Korren. He did not look back, ignoring the uncertain glances prickling the back of his neck.

  "Aeor," Kayneth called again.

  He kept moving.

  "Are we forgetting something?"

  Aeor stopped cold.

  The question landed with enough weight to pin his shadow to the grass. Slowly, he turned back toward her.

  He held her gaze, letting the question hang in the air for a heartbeat too long.

  "Yes." He finally said.

  The breeze, which had felt mechanical and rhythmic only moments before, now bit against his skin like needles.

  He looked at Kayneth and saw something that didn't belong there. Vulnerability.

  It sat behind her eyes, a quiet, confused ache. She was someone who had spent her life bound to the sky, tethered to a soul made of golden fire and scales. Now she stood rooted to the earth, sensing the phantom weight of a limb she no longer remembered possessing.

  The memory of Rorick surged in Aeor's chest.

  He looked at the emptiness in Kayneth's expression and realized the cruelty of the truth. If he told her she had forgotten Kelrothar, her bond, her strength, her other half, it would not bring the dragon back. It would only break what little resolve she had left.

  Ignorance was the only mercy this place offered.

  Aeor swallowed, tightening his grip on the straps of his pack, his knuckles turning white as he walled the grief away.

  "We move," he said.

  The command came out rough, frayed at the edges, but he did not let it break. He turned his back to her before she could ask anything else and strode toward Korren.

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