The dawn after Arenne's return was unlike any Elarion had ever known.
The sky shimmered as if woven from liquid glass, and every color bled softly into the next—rose into gold, gold into violet, violet into an endless gray.
It was beautiful.
It was wrong.
The mortals called it the Queen's Miracle.
But to the gods, it was a rupture.
In the throne chamber, Arenne sat unmoving, her silver hair catching faint streams of light from the windows. Around her, the banners of the celestial court fluttered restlessly though there was no wind. Her eyes—one golden, one violet—reflected two worlds at war within her.
Elyndra stood below the dais, pale, trembling. "You've brought her back. But how? She isn't supposed to exist outside the Veil."
"She isn't outside," Arenne said quietly. "She is the Veil, now given form."
At that, Seraphyne appeared beside the throne, half-shadow, half-light. Her presence was gentle, yet it bent the air around her, warping reflections, turning candle flames white.
Vaelen bowed low, his voice unsteady. "Your Majesty… the people see two dawns in the sky. One bright, one red. The priests call it an omen."
"It is," Seraphyne murmured. "The Veil breathes through the mortal realm again. The balance trembles."
Arenne rose. "Then it has begun. The First Echo stirs."
They gathered in the Hall of Origins—a vast chamber carved from luminous stone, its walls etched with the first symbols of creation. In its center pulsed the Heart Mirror, a perfect sphere of crystal that once linked gods to their realms.
Now, it pulsed erratically, shadows flickering inside it like storm clouds trapped beneath glass.
"The Echo was the first voice before the dawn," Seraphyne said, standing near the Mirror, her form flickering faintly. "It was the sound of creation itself, before light or life knew what to become."
Arenne stared at the Mirror. "And now it wants to speak again."
"To unmake," Elyndra whispered.
"Or to remember," Arenne countered.
The Mirror darkened. A low vibration filled the hall—a hum that was not heard but felt. The sound pressed into their bones, into the heart, into the soul.
Then it spoke.
You took eternity from me.
You wore it like a crown.
And you dare call yourself mercy.
The words came through all of them at once, shaking the pillars.
Seraphyne's light dimmed. "It knows you, Arenne. It knows us."
"I was born of your breath," the voice continued, deeper now, spreading like roots through the air. When you divided night and day, you left the silence unclaimed. I am that silence. I am what remembers before time began.
Vaelen fell to one knee, clutching his head. Elyndra's light guttered.
Arenne took a step forward, her voice steady despite the quake in her heart. "If you are memory, then you are part of me. You are part of everything that was. Why rise now?"
The Mirror pulsed once more. The light within twisted into an indistinct figure—tall, made of shifting shadow and gleam, eyes like shattered stars.
Because you changed the song.
You wove love into eternity.
You turned death into remembrance.
And now nothing dies as it should.
Arenne's breath caught. "The Veil's awakening…"
"Is its wound," Seraphyne finished softly.
The figure inside the Mirror extended a hand. Light bled outward, turning the crystal translucent, then fragile. Cracks spidered across its surface.
I will restore the silence.
"No," Arenne said. "You'll erase everything."
The figure's form solidified, a reflection of her own face—but hollow-eyed, pale as moonlight without warmth. The First Echo was not another being. It was Arenne's first self—the fragment she had shed when she became mortal centuries ago.
Seraphyne's voice broke with awe and dread. "You were divine before you ever wore flesh… and the Echo is what you left behind."
The reflection smiled.
Then I have come to reclaim what was stolen.
The Mirror shattered.
A shockwave of pure energy tore through the Hall. Stone cracked. Light warped. The gods shielded their eyes, and mortals across Elarion fell to their knees, crying out as the heavens split in two.
When the light cleared, the Echo stood before them—no longer within the Mirror, but real, walking.
She looked at Arenne with something colder than hatred—pity.
You chained eternity for love. Now you will watch it unbind itself.
And with a flick of her hand, the stars outside began to fall.