Zerin eased the door open, his crimson eyes sweeping the corridor. Only when the silence lingered did the tension begin to bleed from his shoulders.
"See anything?" Ecludia whispered behind him.
If he had, she would have known immediately.
He glanced over his shoulder before stepping into the hall. "It's clear."
Ecludia slipped out of the library, easing the door shut until it gave a muffled thump. Now they both stood in the gut of the hallway, its walls scarred not only by centuries of decay but by the hags Zerin had slain earlier. Narrow windows lined the opposite wall, casting pale stripes of light across the floor toward the bend ahead—where he had led the hags to their deaths.
At any moment, he expected a clone to appear. Or the Wraith itself. Only with that Terror would they have an easy means of escape.
But nothing came.
Zerin sighed. "Of course..."
"Zerin?"
He pulled himself from his thoughts and turned to face her.
"About Ivan... how do you know him?"
"He was in my First Nightmare."
Ecludia's brow furrowed as she edged closer. "He was?"
"Yeah. Though he looked a little different... older." The words left him quietly, as though speaking them aloud might summon him.
She shook her head. "That... doesn't make any sense. He was a prisoner here. He—"
Of course it didn't make sense to her. It barely made sense to him, and he had bled there.
Zerin turned away, fixing his gaze on the unexplored stretch of corridor ahead. "Just stay close," he said, his back still to her. "The last thing I need is another one of us getting hurt—or worse."
He paused.
"So, if things go wrong... I have a failsafe."
"A failsafe?"
Her footsteps came quick and uneven as she circled him, stopping directly in his path. Instead of answering right away, he reached into the bloody depths of his Soul Sea and drew the Memory out.
Crimson runes materialized in the air—first one by one, then in cascading clusters. They erupted into existence and spiraled together, twisting into a tightening vortex around his palm before collapsing inward.
What remained was a dull, jagged stone resting in his hand.
The same fragment he had retrieved from that pit.
The same stone that had sealed that thing.
"I've never tried using it, so I don't know if it'll work," he admitted. "But this should be able to return at least one of us to the real world."
Ecludia stared at the rock, her eyes widening. "Really?" Her voice was thin, almost breathless.
"Yes."
"That's amazing, Zerin!" She lifted her eyes to him, disbelief and wonder softening her features.
There it was again.
That resilience piercing through the gloom. As though, despite everything she had endured, she could still find something worth marveling at.
Unapologetically herself.
Zerin would have preferred to pretend he didn't understand it. At her core, Ecludia was more human than he could ever hope to be. She was the kind of person who could set aside her trauma and keep moving forward, allowing herself to be genuinely awed by the world before her.
His gaze dropped to the stone.
"Why didn't you tell us sooner?" she asked softly.
Zerin's thumb brushed over the jagged surface. "I'm not as good as you are with that kind of thing. I'm... not exactly the most trusting person."
Ecludia shook her head, a soft smile forming on her lips. "What? No, Zerin. You're one of the most trustworthy people I've met. You came all this way..."
Zerin stood in silence, absorbing her words as though, for the first time in his life, he had finally done something right.
But then he heard the faint whisper of the Spell in his ears, and his attention immediately shifted.
[Transfer Soul Fragments?]
Soul Fragments: 713/1000
Losing five hundred fragments in a single blow was a steep price. He knew surrendering that much power could leave him vulnerable—taking down even a pack of dormant creatures wouldn't be as effortless as before.
But this needed to be done.
"I... just don't know how to thank you... If there is something I could do, and I mean anything, I'd—"
Ecludia paused at the sudden interruption. Zerin, on the other hand, hadn't heard her words about repaying him. His attention was fixed entirely on the task at hand: the [Firmament Fragment].
He instinctively braced himself, expecting the same drain as when he used his Aspect.
"Zerin?"
[20/500 Soul Fragments transferred...]
A faint pulse traveled through the stone.
Then another.
With each transfer, the light beneath its surface grew stronger as the Memory was charged.
Thankfully, the pull of his Soul Fragments was nothing like the pull his Aspect had on his blood. Instead, it was a gradual drain of power, hardly noticeable beneath the steady decline.
[100/500 Soul Fragments transferred...]
The flickering steadied into a warm glow, thin cracks of light bleeding through the dull surface.
[275/500 Soul Fragments transferred...]
Packed with Soul Fragments, the [Firmament Fragment] shed its outer husk. The cracks split wide, and the dull outer layer crumbled to dust, unmasking the Memory's newfound brilliance.
Beneath its surface, a breathtaking aurora of green, purple, blue, and pink intertwined like swirls of fresh paint. The radiance spilled over them, reflecting in their irises as the light swelled.
[499/500 Soul Fragments transferred...]
One more.
He glanced at Ecludia.
She was speechless, washed in brilliant light, her face free of the blood that coated his own.
Zerin turned the [Firmament Fragment] in his hand, took hers in his, and gently pressed the stone into her palm.
At once, the Spell called to them both:
[Transfer Memory?]
Hearing the voice, Ecludia snapped her eyes to his.
"Yes..." Zerin accepted the Spell's query.
Zerin's eyes had dulled to a flat black, yet the aurora still danced in their reflection.
"Zerin, no... I can't..."
He pressed the fragment deeper into her palm, smothering the light—and any lingering temptation to keep the Memory for himself.
"You can. Just add one more fragment, and you'll be back in the real world with your sister."
Her composure broke completely.
Tears spilled down her cold cheeks, and with a gasping breath, she stepped forward and opened her arms, hugging him.
Zerin jolted at the sudden contact. He stood rigid, staring blankly over the top of her head as she clung to him like a lifeline.
"Thank you..." Her body shuddered against his. "Thank you so much..."
The words sounded strange to his ears.
He couldn't remember the last time someone had thanked him—if anyone ever had.
Yet what he said next felt even more unfamiliar.
"You're welcome."