Chapter 7 Name That Shouldn’t Exist
---
It began as a dream.
Not vivid.
Not violent.
Just… still.
A boy stood beneath a broken sky.
His back was turned.
His name was—
"Yun… Che."
She woke with the word on her lips, her heart pounding like she'd shouted it into the stars.
But the room was silent.
Scrolls lined the walls like veins of memory, each one sealed, enchanted, untouchable. This was the Chamber of Eternal Lore, hidden deep within the Eastern Divine Region's forgotten libraries.
Her fingers trembled against her robe. She looked down.
In her lap: a page she didn't remember opening. A symbol she didn't remember drawing.
A name.
雲澈.
She didn't know how to read it.
But her bones did.
---
Her name was Lyra.
Or so she had been told.
She had been found inside the library sixteen years ago, silent and frostbitten, cradling a scroll sealed in moonlight. No one knew where she came from. No sect claimed her. No divine lineage bore her crest.
She had no memories—only dreams.
And they were always red.
---
"You look pale," the curator said as he passed her chamber.
"Bad dreams again?"
She nodded vaguely. "Just the stars."
He laughed. "Stars can't hurt you."
She did not laugh.
Because she remembered now—they could.
That boy in her dream... he didn't belong to the stars.
He made them bleed.
---
Later that day, she returned to the sealed scroll.
She had never dared open it.
But now…
The name in her head pulsed like a second heartbeat.
The scroll unwrapped without resistance.
Its first line, written in a hand not seen for millennia:
"He was born cursed. Loved once. Forgotten by all."
"But even forgetting is a kind of remembering."
"And some names… will rise again."
Then, below it:
A sketch.
A boy with dark hair. Crimson eyes. A scar down one arm shaped like a dying star.
She dropped the scroll.
The symbol on the page burned into her palm.
---
She clutched her chest.
The air grew heavy.
The walls whispered.
She tried to speak—but when her lips parted, the only sound was:
"Yun Che."
---
It echoed.
Too loud.
Too sharp.
And the scrolls around her began to shake.
Hundreds.
Thousands.
The ink inside them leaked red.
And somewhere in the Divine Sky above, a celestial sigil shattered.
---
In the Celestial Records Hall—a divine archive accessed only by realm guardians—the head scribe opened his eyes and whispered:
"A name that should not exist has been spoken."
---
Elsewhere—
Far above. Far beyond.
A figure cloaked in scripture stirred from meditation.
The White Warden.
"A second thread is stirring…"
"If they speak his name…"
"The weave will break."
---
Back in the chamber, Lyra collapsed to her knees.
Memories not her own flashed through her skull:
A falling girl wrapped in starlight.
A battlefield where time collapsed.
A kiss beneath ash.
A scream that never echoed.
And a voice.
Deep. Calm. Unforgivable.
"I will return. And you will remember me."
---
She gasped, clawing at her head.
But even as pain consumed her—
She smiled.
---
"I remember you," she whispered. "Even if the world doesn't."
"I will not forget again."
---
The scroll sealed itself.
The red on her palm faded.
But the bond had formed.
Far away, Yun Che opened his eyes.
And for the first time since his erasure—
He felt something reach back.
---