Lavender was quiet.
Not in the way a village is quiet before dusk, or a road is quiet in the rain. It was quiet the way a tomb is quiet — full of voices that had nowhere else to go.
Kael stepped off the worn trail and into the town square. His boots pressed into old stone, softened by moss and soot. Buildings leaned in as though trying to listen. Lanterns swayed even though the wind had died.
And there, at the far edge of the square, stood the Tower.
Seven floors of fading stone and black glass. The top had crumbled decades ago in a storm, but no one rebuilt it. The League hadn't ordered it closed. They just… stopped coming.
Echo walked beside him, slow and deliberate. Her tail hung low, not in fear — in awareness.
"This place remembers too well," she said.
"So do we," Kael replied.
They reached the base of the Tower just as the last light dipped behind the cliffs. An old monk stood beside the gate, lantern in hand, robes too big for his thin frame.
He didn't speak.
Just stared.
Then, after a long pause, said: "You're not supposed to be here."
Kael stepped forward. "Neither are most of the voices inside."
The monk flinched at that.
He opened the gate.
The interior of the Tower was colder than the air outside. Old incense clung to the walls, and faded wards still hung from wooden beams like tired guardians. Echo sniffed the air. Her breath came out in clouds.
The monk led them only to the third floor, then stopped.
He gestured to a far wall.
"There. That's where it started."
Kael stepped forward. The wall was covered in claw marks. Not deep — just sharp. Intentional. A pattern.
Echo brushed her paw along them.
"They're glyphs," she said. "But broken. Like someone tried to write the Unown alphabet with a trembling hand."
Kael squinted.
One glyph repeated: 𐔧
The symbol for self.
Or echo.
"Who did this?" he asked.
The monk hesitated.
Then: "We don't know. We never saw them. But… the Tower began calling names. Out loud. One each night."
Kael's stomach turned.
"What name last?"
The monk's lips trembled.
"Kael."
The air shifted.
The flames in the lanterns along the wall dimmed. Echo stepped between him and the glyphs.
"Something is watching through the marks," she said.
Not behind them.
Through them.
Kael took a slow breath. "What does it want?"
"To be heard."
He placed one hand against the wall.
The stone trembled under his fingers. Not movement — resonance.
And then he heard it.
A voice.
But not like the ones in Veilpoint.
This one was small.
"I didn't mean to forget."
Kael blinked.
It was a child's voice.
Echo's ears twitched. "It's not trying to trick you."
"Then what is it?"
The glyphs pulsed faintly.
"It's a memory that never had a body."
Kael sat down in front of the wall.
The monk backed away slowly. He didn't stop them. Just watched with wide, silent eyes.
Echo sat beside him.
The glyphs began to glow.
And the voice spoke again.
"Are you… him?"
He didn't answer.
Not yet.
"Who are you?" he asked softly.
"I'm the part that never left the trail."
"The part that still waits."
"The part Galen promised would wake up first."
Kael's breath caught.
"You're… a memory of me?"
"Not you. Not exactly. Just the part that kept believing."
The glyphs pulsed brighter now.
"You don't have to carry me anymore."
Kael looked at Echo.
She nodded once.
He reached out with both hands and touched the wall again.
The glyphs unraveled.
Not destructively.
Gently.
Like something being released.
And then it stopped.
No burst of light.
No psychic wave.
Just… peace.
The stone cooled beneath his fingers.
The glyphs faded.
And Kael, for the first time in weeks, felt lighter.
He stood slowly.
The monk still stared, unmoving.
Kael turned to him.
"It's done."
The monk's voice shook. "What was it?"
"A promise," Kael said. "Kept too long."
Outside, the stars had come out.
Lavender Town didn't feel as heavy.
He and Echo walked quietly toward the edge of the forest, where the trail forked east and south.
"Do you think there are more?" he asked.
Echo nodded. "Pieces of you. Pieces of others. Stuck."
Kael looked back at the Tower, its silhouette softened by starlight.
"Then I'll keep walking."
"Not to find them," Echo said.
"To let them go."
He smiled.
And the wind didn't stop him this time.