Of Ghosts and King
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The rain had stopped.
The cave was quiet again, save for the soft dripping of water from the moss-strung stones above. A faint fire crackled in the center, casting flickering gold across Lyra's face.
She sat on the floor, knees pulled close, her back against the stone wall. Her hair, still damp from washing, fell in dark waves around her shoulders. Her hands were folded, fingers interlaced.
Across from her, Riven sat in silence.
No sword in hand.
No cloak to shield him.
Just the boy beneath it all.
And Lyra, staring straight into him.
"I remembered something," she said softly.
Riven didn't move. "From the rupture?"
She nodded. "But it wasn't a vision. It was a memory. Buried deep. Before the attack. Before we ever came to the Vale."
---
They had grown up in the same garden.
She told him that first.
Not as metaphor. Not as symbol.
As truth.
"You were eight. I was seven. Our fathers were allies. You used to sneak into the library tower to hide during lessons."
Riven blinked.
She kept going. "You never spoke much. Not even then. But when you did, you told me stories. Not made-up ones. Not fairy tales. Histories. You memorized them."
"I don't remember," he said, slowly.
"I do. I watched you sketch battle formations in the dirt with a stick. You traced your father's sigil into the bark of the olive trees. I saw it."
Her eyes met his.
"Three blades. One broken."
Riven's breath hitched.
That sigil…
That symbol had haunted his dreams long before Veyron ever entered his mind. A crest with three intersecting swords—one cracked down the middle.
> Valenhart.
His bloodline.
His forgotten name.
---
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he asked.
"Because until the rupture, I didn't remember either," Lyra said. "Something… blocked it. Not just for you. For all of us who were there. I think the Eclipse did something when they attacked your father's fortress. Something that didn't just kill him—but scattered the memory of his bloodline."
"A Seal?"
Lyra shook her head. "Something older. Not spirit-based. Something primal. Maybe even divine."
Riven stood, pacing. "And now it's unraveling."
"Yes."
He stopped.
"What else did you see?"
Lyra looked toward the fire.
"A man in chains. Eyes like yours. But older. Worn. He was in a hall of broken mirrors. Every reflection was twisted, wrong. But he stood tall."
She swallowed.
"And when I got closer, I realized… it was your father."
---
The name hung in the air like a blade on a thread.
Kael entered the cave then, brushing rain from his cloak.
He paused at the tension, reading it instantly.
"Something happen?"
Lyra glanced at Riven, who hadn't moved.
"We may have found out what the Eclipse is really after," she said. "And who they need to complete it."
Kael crossed his arms. "You."
Riven looked up.
Lyra nodded. "Not just him. His bloodline. The Valenhart name was sealed for a reason. And now that it's resurfacing… so will their enemies."
---
Later that night, Riven sat alone outside the cave.
The stars were blurred behind fast-moving clouds, but one light cut through.
Not a star.
A spirit.
The same one they'd freed from the refinery—gliding high above the trees in a slow, deliberate arc. Watching.
"Old bonds return," Veyron murmured in his mind. "Careful, little heir. Bloodlines come with curses."
"What do you know?" Riven asked aloud.
Veyron laughed, voice echoing like wind in a bone flute. "I know that your father once made a pact with a power that made even the Highlords flinch. I know that pact was broken—and sealed in you."
"Why me?"
"Because you survived."
Riven clenched his fists.
"I don't want power handed to me."
Veyron's voice lowered. "Then take it. The Eclipse wants your memory. Your blood. Your core. Take back what they tried to erase."
---
The next morning, Liora returned with word.
A message intercepted. An Eclipse gathering set to take place three days east—in the ruins of Glaedr's Mouth. A ritual convergence site.
"High-level leaders will be there," she said. "Not initiates. Not pawns."
Kael looked to Riven. "We strike?"
"No," Riven said.
"We watch."
Kael blinked. "What?"
Riven stepped forward, voice calm.
"We need to know what they want. Not just react. No more playing catch-up. We go, we listen, we learn."
Lyra stepped beside him. "We risk being seen."
"Then we wear masks."
Kael cracked a grin. "It's about time we started acting like villains."
---
Far away, across a continent torn by old scars and new sins, Seris stared into a memory pool surrounded by twelve veiled figures.
"He remembers," she said softly.
The figures didn't speak.
Seris touched the water.
"Begin the awakening."
---