The Sky That Bled Gold
The world had forgotten how to breathe.
Above the Wound, the sky shimmered — not with fire or storm, but with golden rain.
Each drop glowed, suspended in time, as if afraid to touch the ground.
When they finally did, flowers bloomed where none had grown in centuries.
But these were not flowers of hope.
They were warnings.
Each petal bore a sigil.Each stem whispered a name.
Names long buried. Names etched into lost temples. Names that should never return.
Selene stood barefoot among them, fingers trembling as she plucked a single golden blossom.
One word echoed through her mind:
"Velyrien."
She dropped it.
It burned through the earth.
The Faceless Host
They came at dawn.
Not marching. Not flying.
They descended.
From cracks in the sky, quiet as snow.
Faceless, robed, and humming — the sound like a thousand voices drowned beneath water.
Their weapons were not made of steel or flame.
They carried relics of forgotten time: scrolls that screamed, mirrors that blinked, orbs that pulsed with trapped suns.
Kael did not move as they arrived.
Selene stood before him, blade raised, breath sharp and shallow.
Voren stood behind her now, silent, loyal, unsure.
"What are they?" he whispered again.
Kael finally spoke.
"Echoes of a world that tried to erase me."
First Contact
The leader of the faceless host stepped forward.
Not tall. Not small.
It simply was.
It raised an arm, and from its palm, a shape uncoiled — neither weapon nor gift.
A contract.
Etched in bloodless script. Signed by hands no longer attached to bodies.
Selene felt the words press against her skin.
"Speak," she said, voice hard.
The faceless one replied — not in words, but in understanding.
A trade.
Kael's life, in exchange for peace.
The world returned to its old order.
The sword returned to its prison.
And the Wound would close.
Voren snarled. "This is blackmail."
Selene smiled bitterly. "No. This is diplomacy."
Kael's Choice
Kael stepped forward.
The faceless host did not react.
He looked at the contract. Then at Selene. Then at the ground.
"It's tempting," he said quietly.
Selene's eyes flared. "You're not considering it."
"I'm tired, Selene."
"You don't get to be tired."
His gaze softened — just a little.
"I already broke the world. Maybe this is how I fix it."
She stepped closer, fists clenched.
"You don't fix a broken kingdom by cutting off its heart."
His laugh was dry. "That's exactly how kings did it."
Selene's voice broke.
"You're not a king. You're mine."
And for a second — just a second — Kael faltered.
The Second Offer
But the faceless were not done.
They raised a second contract.
Not for Kael.
For Selene.
And this time, the offer was crueler.
Trade places.
She becomes the Hollow Queen.
She bears the sword.
Kael walks free.
He breathes again.
Lives again.
Selene staggered, the air around her folding into itself.
Kael screamed — the first true sound from him in weeks.
"NO!"
But the offer had already been made.
The choice, cast.
And Selene, through clenched teeth, asked:
"What happens to me?"
The faceless did not reply.
But the ground beneath her cracked open.
And whispered,"You become memory."
The Heart Beneath the Wound
That night, Selene did not sleep.
She sat beneath the spire of bone, beside Kael, and said nothing.
He looked at her.
"I won't let you do this."
She smiled. Tired. Cold.
"You don't get to decide."
He touched her wrist. "Then fight them. With me."
"They don't want a fight."
"Neither did I. Look where that got us."
She leaned her head on his shoulder.
"If I could go back…"
"I'd still choose you."
The wind blew gently, pulling strands of her hair toward the stars.
"I'd choose you, too," she whispered."And I'll keep choosing you, even after they make me forget your name."
The War of Unspoken Words
The faceless host prepared for ritual.
They carved runes in the air.
Drew circles in flame.
Opened the Veil.
And from within it, stepped the Council of Mirrors.
Seven beings.
None identical. None real.
Each one shimmered like broken glass.
They surrounded Kael and Selene, eyes blazing with unreadable judgment.
The leader spoke at last — a voice like every scream Selene had ever swallowed.
"The balance must be restored."
Kael raised his hand. The sword flickered.
"Then take me."
Selene stepped forward.
"Take me."
The Council stared. No answer.
Then, with one movement, they turned the blade toward Selene.
Decision made.
The Girl with No Name
The ritual began.
Selene stood at the center of the Wound, surrounded by salt and bone.
Her name was already fading.
Kael screamed her name.
But it fell apart in his mouth.
Voren tried to charge.
A mirror caught him, trapping his reflection but not his body.
Selene closed her eyes.
And smiled.
"I remember."
One last time.
Kael's touch.
Nera's laughter.
Darien's song.
The sky over Aerlyn.
The warmth of old fire.
Then, silence.
And the Wound consumed her.
The Rebirth of the Sword
When it was over, Kael stood alone.
The sword pulsed beside him — different now.
No longer a curse.
But a promise.
He picked it up.
Felt it hum.
And from the sword, he heard her voice:
"Don't forget me."
He turned toward the faceless.
They bowed.
So did the Council.
And Kael, King of Ash, Godbreaker, Hollow No More, lifted the blade.
And declared:
"Then let the world remember her instead."
He raised the sword to the sky.
And brought it down.
The Collapse
Light.
Everywhere.
Not fire. Not death.
Rewriting.
The Wound uncoiled.
The spire crumbled.
The sky stitched itself shut.
In every corner of the realm, those who'd forgotten Selene… remembered.
Every painting restored.
Every name unblurred.
Every child dreaming of gardens and stars whispered her name.
Selene.
Not queen. Not curse.
Just Selene.
And Kael smiled through his tears.
Because that was the only immortality that mattered.