> "Some things are not killed. They are hidden.
Buried under lies so thick even gods forget where they began.
But the truth has a shape.
And it walks."
---
🜃 Ashmarch – Eve of Departure
The camp stood silent beneath stars that pulsed unnaturally.
Six thrones had fallen.
The seventh lied.
And somewhere in the void—Lioren waited.
Aralyndra wrapped her fingers around the edge of the war map. The roads ahead were blank, the ink recoiling from the space they needed to walk.
> "No cartographer will follow us," Thorne said.
> "Then we'll draw the world by walking through it," she replied.
Saelira stood at her side, the Fragment hovering above her palm like a second heart.
> "I've seen his face," the child whispered.
> "Lioren's?" Karna asked.
> "No," she said, eyes wide.
"The version of him the gods want us to find. But it's not real."
---
🌫️ Beyond the Edge – Into the Shattered Paths
The army marched beyond Ashmarch, where the world became mist.
No birds.
No time.
Even footsteps did not echo.
This was a place the gods had surgically removed—a corridor between truths.
A place where memories that should have existed were filed away like broken parchment.
The Flamecallers called it The Quiet Fold.
Saelira called it home.
> "He's near," she whispered. "I can feel his story trying to wake up."
The mist thickened.
And shapes began to walk toward them.
---
🜂 The Echoes of Lioren
They came in different forms.
An old man weeping over a battlefield.
A knight with no sword.
A boy with Aralyndra's eyes.
A shadow with no face, only hands reaching upward.
They all spoke the same name.
> "Lioren…"
But each said it differently.
Not just voice.
Meaning.
Some with love.
Some with guilt.
Some with worship.
Karna stepped forward and slashed one of the illusions—
It bled not blood, but verses.
> "They aren't monsters," Aralyndra whispered.
> "They're versions of what the world was told he was."
> "Which means the real Lioren is worse," Thorne muttered.
> "Or better," Saelira whispered. "Depending who's telling the story."
---
🌌 Meanwhile – In the Hollow Between Thrones
The Usurper stood beside the Seventh Throne.
It still gleamed.
But cracks now ran through its perfect mask.
> "Do you know what they're walking toward?" he asked.
The throne did not answer.
He crouched beside it.
> "You lied so well, for so long. You even believed it yourself."
He smiled.
> "But they're about to find the truth you tried to erase."
He pressed his hand into the seat.
The gold shattered.
And from the throne's hollow core spilled a single frozen heart.
Still beating.
Still bound in Astraeva's final song.
---
🜃 The Dead Temple – The Memory That Shouldn't Exist
At the edge of the Fold, the army arrived at a structure carved into black stone.
It pulsed with a heartbeat none of them could hear—but all of them felt.
This was not a place for mortals.
Nor gods.
It was a temple to a name so dangerous, it was cursed to never be spoken.
But Saelira stepped forward and whispered:
> "Lioren."
The temple opened.
And Aralyndra collapsed.
Because inside—
She saw herself.
Younger. Standing beside a man.
Eyes like storm glass. Smile like rain.
A man she once vowed to protect.
A man the gods forced her to forget.
> "You were real…" she whispered.
> "And I let them take you."
---
🔥 The Unraveling of Aralyndra's Truth
She stepped into the temple alone.
The walls were not made of stone, but vows she had broken under divine command.
Each step triggered a voice.
> "You swore to follow him to death."
> "You swore to protect his name."
> "You let them erase him."
She reached the altar.
There, bound in silver flame—
Lioren knelt.
But not alive.
Not dead.
Suspended.
Like a truth too heavy to speak aloud.
> "They made him a secret," Saelira said softly. "Because he was the only thing Astraeva ever chose over the thrones."
---
🌑 The Usurper Descends Further
He watched as Aralyndra reached for the frozen truth.
He laughed.
> "Let her try."
> "Because when memory is restored…"
> "So is consequence."
He raised a single finger.
And across the Fold—
The rewritten army awakened.
---
⚔️ The War of Versions Begins
Thousands of figures spilled from the fog.
Each wearing a piece of Lioren's face.
Each holding a false banner.
Each carrying rewritten prophecy.
The army braced.
Karna stood at the front with Truthbreak.
Saelira raised the Fragment.
Aralyndra lifted Whispersong.
> "We are not fighting illusions," she said.
> "We are fighting everything the gods wanted us to believe."
The first clash shattered the fog.
And the war began—
Between what was true.
And what had been sold as truth.
---
🌠 Inside the Temple – Lioren Awakens
Aralyndra touched his name.
Not the man.
The name.
And it burned her palm.
But she did not let go.
> "I remember you," she said.
> "And I will not let them bury you again."
His eyes opened.
And for the first time since Astraeva fell—
Lioren spoke.
> "Then let them remember what I truly was."