Chapter 112 — Echoes Beneath the Altar
The great doors of the Goshenite Gem Palace closed silently behind Akira as he stepped inside.
The air was calm but carried the faint scent of crystal and forgotten time. Every step echoed across the marble floor, the sound soft yet endless, as if even the palace itself breathed with him.
Light poured from above, streaming through the glass dome ceiling that shimmered with countless runes. The rays scattered into colors — blue, white, and gold — falling like divine threads upon the center of the hall.
And there, at the heart of that light, stood an altar.
The stone beneath it was pale as moonlight, carved with ancient symbols of the Liminal Expanse. Around it, the air shimmered with energy that pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat.
Akira's golden eyes scanned the altar carefully, and his breath caught.
Where the sacred Goshenite Gem should have rested — there was only emptiness.
A faint outline of its shape still remained, a perfect oval indentation as if the gem had been lifted gently, not stolen. Dust motes floated above it like lingering souls of worshippers who had long vanished.
He took a slow step closer, his fingers brushing the edge of the altar. "The Goshenite Gem…" he murmured, "so it was taken."
But then, his gaze fell below the altar — and there he saw it.
Two radiant eggs, glowing faintly with divine light.
One gold. One blue.
And beside them — a pair of earrings, crafted from pale, luminous crystal, faintly resonating with his own soul. They were shaped like small moons.
Akira's breath slowed. Something stirred deep within him — something old, like a song he'd forgotten but still remembered the melody of.
And then… the world around him began to blur.
A memory — faint, distant, but warm — flickered into existence before his eyes.
---
The scene shifted.
A boy, around ten years old, stood in a vast training ground under a twin moon sky. His silver hair was tied loosely, and his clothes shimmered with the crest of the Liminal Expanse. His small hands gripped a wooden sword, trembling.
Another voice — bright, firm, and teasing — echoed from behind him.
"Come on! How can you be so weak? Get up and start training! How will you ever become the next wielder of the Goshenite Gem — or the Emperor of Liminal Expanse — if you fall from just one swing?"
The silver-haired boy pouted, sweat on his forehead, but there was determination in his eyes. "I-I'm trying!"
"Then try harder!"
The second boy laughed, his tone playful yet filled with warmth. His eyes — bright golden — softened. He walked closer, offering his hand. "You'll never improve if you stay down there, Crown Prince."
The memory flickered, shifting again — now showing a different moment.
The same two boys, a little older this time, stood under the tree of white leaves. The breeze carried the scent of starlight and faint laughter.
"Congratulations," the golden-eyed boy said softly. "You finally did it. You made it to the top of the mountain yourself."
He smiled — a smile that seemed to glow brighter than the moons. "I made something for you. A present."
He opened his palms.
Two pairs of earrings lay there — one pair in each hand.
"These white moon earrings," he said, "are from Grandfather. But the gold and blue moons — I made these myself. Which ones will you wear?"
The younger boy looked at both pairs, eyes wide with hesitation. Then his lips curved into a small smile.
"You said… I should wear one blue and one white."
"And you'll wear one gold and one white."
The golden-eyed boy laughed softly. "Alright then. A promise — one gold and one white for you, one blue and white for me."
The memory dissolved like mist in sunlight. The echo of their laughter faded into silence.
---
Akira blinked. His surroundings came back into focus — the altar, the pale light, the fairy waiting quietly behind him. His chest ached faintly, not with pain, but with something softer — the weight of something once precious.
He whispered, his voice low, "That was… me."
He looked down at the earrings resting beside the eggs. His hand trembled slightly as he reached out, touching them. The surface was smooth and cool, but the moment his skin met the white gem, a faint warmth spread through him.
His heartbeat echoed in his ears, slow and heavy, like an old rhythm remembered by his soul.
"That memory…" he whispered, "was too old."
The fairy stepped closer, her wings folding gracefully. "You saw it, didn't you? The bond between you and His Highness."
Akira nodded slowly, eyes still fixed on the earrings. "Just fragments. A few voices. Nothing clear."
He lifted one of the earrings — the white moon — and held it against the light. For a brief moment, a reflection shimmered within the gem: two figures standing beneath the twin moons.
It vanished in the blink of an eye.
Akira lowered his hand. "So these… were part of that promise."
He took both the eggs and the earrings carefully, placing them in his palm. The light from the altar faded the moment he lifted them, as if the palace itself had released what it had been guarding for ages.
He turned toward the exit of the hall, and the fairy of life followed him silently. As they stepped back into the soft air outside the palace, the forest shimmered once again with faint lights.
The fairy broke the silence first.
"So, those were the treasures His Highness left for you. The eggs and the moon earrings — symbols of your union and your duty. He must still be waiting for you somewhere, Crown Prince."
Akira stopped walking and looked down at the items in his hands.
"Waiting… but how am I supposed to find him?" he asked quietly. "I don't even know where he is. I don't even know who he is anymore."
The fairy's expression softened with something like sadness. "I thought you would remember once you touched the earrings. The memory should have awakened fully. But…" — she hesitated — "it seems something happened. In one of your incarnations, perhaps. Or someone sealed those memories away."
Akira looked up sharply. "Sealed my memory?"
The fairy nodded. "Yes. There is a mark of interference around your soul — faint but clear. Someone tampered with your cycle of reincarnation. It's possible that when you passed from your first life to your second, a force intervened to lock away certain memories — perhaps to protect you, or perhaps to keep you from remembering something dangerous."
Akira's eyes narrowed. "Then whoever did it must've known me. Known us."
The fairy nodded gravely. "And known the power that rests within the Goshenite Gem and the Crown Prince of the Liminal Expanse. The balance between your soul and His Highness's was something even the higher realms feared."
Akira looked back toward the palace, the distant shimmer of its towers glowing faintly beneath the twin moons. "Feared, huh? Then maybe… that's why everything was destroyed."
For a long moment, silence hung between them.
The wind brushed past gently, carrying petals and faint fragments of glowing dust.
The fairy finally spoke, voice soft. "Even if the memories are sealed, the bond is not gone. Souls that are tied will always find each other again — no matter the universe, no matter the time. That is the law that governs the Empyrean Schism itself."