4: The Veil of Knowing
The visions swirled faster—like fragments of shattered glass spinning through a storm. Lili staggered back from the pool of stars, clutching her chest as foreign memories crashed into her consciousness. She saw fire. A great tower crumbling into the sea of night. Chains of silver light binding her limbs. Screams—her own—echoing in a tongue she didn’t understand. And then, silence.
The images vanished, but the ache they left behind felt carved into bone.
“Make it stop,” she gasped, pressing trembling fingers to her temples. “Please, I can’t… I can’t do this.”
The masked council remained still, their presence like ancient stone—unshaken by panic, unmoved by fear.
“You asked to remember,” intoned the central figure, his voice a haunting baritone that echoed as if through the ages. “And now, the truth begins to awaken.”
“I didn’t ask for this,” Lili whispered, her voice hollow. “I didn’t ask to lose everything I knew, I don't believe any of this. It doesn't even make any sense at all.”
A soft, female voice rose from the crescent arc of cloaked figures. “You did not lose it, child. You gave it away. A sacrifice made freely, though not without sorrow.”
Lili slowly sank to her knees, her eyes still locked on the now-still surface of the star pool. Her reflection shimmered faintly on it, but it wasn’t her face—not the one she remembered from mirrors and birthday photos. This face was sharper, older, laced with sadness and something else she couldn’t name.
She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering despite the warmth of the chamber. “Why would I ever choose to forget everything? Who would do that to themselves?”
The central figure stepped forward, his silver and bone mask gleaming faintly under the flickering chandeliers.
“You did,” he said simply.
Lili looked up, startled. “What? Why?”
“You were one of us once. A Chronicler. One of the Obscura’s most gifted. You carried the burden of memory—for entire worlds. You saw things no one else dared look at. And in the end, you chose to forget it all. To protect something.”
“Protect what?” she asked, her voice nearly breaking.
There was a pause—tense and lingering. The silence held weight, as though the answer itself might shatter the walls.
Finally, the star pool shimmered again. And this time, it showed her a child.
A tiny baby, wrapped in violet cloth. Nestled in a bed of what looked like starlight and feathers. Lili recognized the arms holding the child—hers. But not the version of herself she knew. This version of her was powerful. Radiant. Worn by war and loss, but unmistakably fierce.
The image dissolved before she could say anything.
“What—who was that?” Lili breathed.
“The reason you chose to forget,” said the woman’s voice again. “You hid them—and yourself—to keep them safe. And the only way to shield them from the Hollow Realm was to erase your past, to vanish inside a dream of another life.”
Lili shook her head, disoriented. “This isn’t real. None of this can be real, I'm just a kid! This is probably a dream. I can't have woken up from a dream to whatever this is and it's supposedly real, can I go back to my ‘dream’? It's way more realistic than this, I'd really appreciate that.”
“We can't. The dream you lived wasn’t real,” the council replied in unison. “This is what remains after the dream fades.”
She tried to stand, but her legs gave out. The stone floor bit into her knees. “I don’t remember being a Chronicler. I don’t remember any of this. I was just... Lili McGuire. I had a room. A journal. Overly strict Parents whom I wished would all disappear one dat, I thought. I went to school. I had friends... Why did I even wake up?”
“None of it was real,” the central figure said gently. “The Hollowkins took the shape of your guardians. The places you believed in were illusions stitched from your buried mind. Things you wished for. But the girl who wrote in her journal… She was real. That was you, holding onto a piece of truth the dream couldn’t erase. And regarding you waking up, you probably began to feel dissatisfaction from one thing you had through your dream, did anything not live up to your expectations?”
Lili’s eyes dimmed with sadness. “yes...” she exhaled softly, "My parents...I wished for them to disappear...what now?"
“You are what you choose to become,” said the woman. “The Veil has lifted. But what lies beyond it is yours to face.”
Suddenly, the chamber dimmed.
The sapphire hue that bathed the hall began to flicker, shadows crawling across the arched ceiling. A wind swept through the room—impossibly cold—and the floating scrolls clamped shut, vanishing in a cascade of sparks. The chandeliers overhead swayed slightly.
One of the cloaked council members stood abruptly. “They’ve found her.”
Lili’s heart pounded. “Who? The Hollowkins?”
“No,” said another, darker voice. “Their masters. The Shadow Readers.”
A chill passed through Lili like ice in her veins. “Shadow Readers?”
“Servants of the Hollow Realm,” the central figure replied. “They were drawn by the fracturing of your seal. When you awakened, your energy pulsed through the in-between worlds. Now they know you’re here.”
“Then… send me back!” Lili begged. “Put me back to sleep. I don’t want to remember anymore. I didn’t ask for this. I’m not—whatever you think I am! I just want to go home.”
“There is no return,” said the woman. “Only ascent… or fall.”
Just then, a deep clang echoed through the Citadel, somewhere far beyond the walls. Lili turned, eyes wide.
“They’re coming!” she cried, backing toward the star pool.
“No,” the central figure replied slowly, as the great doors creaked open. “Not them.”
A figure entered—her footsteps soft against the stone. She was taller than Lili by a few inches, her violet robes trimmed in lunar thread. Her dark skin glowed faintly, and her long braids were adorned with silver rings and glowing beads. But it was her eyes that stopped Lili’s breath.
They were her eyes.
Dark, sharp, knowing.
“Elira,” one of the council whispered reverently.
Lili’s mouth opened in shock. That name—Elira—it pulsed through her chest like a forgotten heartbeat.
The girl stopped before her, staring without speaking. Then her lips curled slightly—not in a smile, but something softer. Familiar.
“I’ve waited a long time for you to wake up, did you suddenly wish for something else?” she said.
Lili blinked, trembling. “Do I… know you?”
“Yes,” Elira said gently. “You do.”
“How?”
Elira knelt down, her voice steady and filled with something that sounded like longing.
“Because I’m your sister.”
Lili’s breath hitched.
“I don’t have a sister,” she whispered.
“You did,” Elira replied. “Before the erasure. Before the seal. You hid me, Lili. You hid us. And now the world remembers. And the Hollow Realm… wants to take it back.”
Lili felt the pull of something ancient inside her stir. A tether—an echo. A song she hadn’t heard in centuries.
She didn’t know what to believe anymore.
But one thing was certain.
The dream was over.
And her real story was only just beginning. She just had to accept it.