Chapter 16 – The Sky That Sang Her Name
---
They came out of the canyon into a sky that had forgotten how to be still.
Clouds no longer moved by wind.
They shifted in patterns, spirals of glyphs and glowing veins. The stars above no longer shimmered—they burned.
Each constellation pulsed to a rhythm.
Not natural.
Musical.
Intentional.
And in the center of the sky, where once hung a nameless cluster of fading lights, a new constellation blazed.
Twelve stars.
Curved like a sigil.
Bent like a crown.
Elaria stared at it for a long time.
Her throat tightened.
Anterz saw the way her hands trembled.
"Elaria?" he asked.
But she didn't answer.
She just kept staring.
---
That night, by the fire, her silence became unbearable.
Anterz watched her from across the flames. She sat motionless, arms wrapped around her knees, eyes glassy and fixed on something only she could see.
Finally, he stood, crossed the firelight, and knelt beside her.
"You haven't spoken since the canyon," he said.
Still, no answer.
He touched her shoulder.
She flinched.
Then slowly, mechanically, turned her head toward him.
"I know that star," she whispered.
"The new one?"
Her voice was barely audible.
"It's not new."
---
Anterz's jaw clenched.
"Talk to me, Elaria."
Her eyes brimmed.
"When I was a child," she said, "I had dreams. Dreams I could never explain. Of being... revered. Of standing in black halls filled with voices. Of giving orders, and hearing the world shift to obey me."
She looked away.
"I thought they were just nightmares. But I remember now. I remember."
She looked back at him, and her voice broke:
"I was part of the Choir."
---
The fire cracked.
The night held still.
Not even the wind dared speak.
Anterz said nothing for a long moment.
Then:
"No. You weren't."
"I was," she said. "Maybe not in this life. Maybe not in this shape. But somewhere—some version of me helped build their dream."
Her hands shook.
"And now they're singing me back into place."
---
Above them, the stars pulsed again.
Not fast.
Slow.
Calling.
---
"We've destroyed three Wells," she whispered. "But what if it's not enough? What if I'm still theirs, and don't know it? What if everything I've done is just... their story for me?"
Anterz grabbed her hands.
Firm.
Steady.
"You are not their weapon."
She looked at him, despair naked on her face.
"How do you know?"
He held her gaze.
"Because when they called, you turned away."
---
She buried her face into his chest.
And for a while, there were no words.
Just grief.
And the sound of stars breathing.
---
Later that night, Anterz dreamed.
Of her.
Not Elaria.
The other Elaria.
The one who had stood at the Choir King's right hand.
Crowned in black vines.
Her voice a war-song.
Her eyes empty.
She stood atop a mountain of skulls.
And sang.
Each note shaped the sky.
Bent it.
Branded it.
Anterz stood beneath that sky and watched as the stars rearranged to spell her name:
> ELARIA – FIRST OF THE NEW GODS
He screamed.
And woke.
---
She was already awake.
Staring at him.
"I had the same dream," she said softly.
Anterz sat up, wiped cold sweat from his brow.
"This is the fourth Well, isn't it?" she whispered.
"It's not in the ground."
"No."
He looked up.
"It's in the sky."
---
By noon the next day, the world confirmed it.
The sky no longer followed day and night.
It bent around Elaria.
When she walked, clouds parted.
When she spoke, the stars brightened.
The sky remembered her—or some version of her—and was remaking itself accordingly.
They walked through a village that hadn't seen memory storms yet.
Children pointed at her.
Elders dropped to their knees.
"You've come back," one said.
"You'll make the world clean again," another wept.
Elaria fled before they could offer her a throne.
---
They camped outside a ruined observatory that night, tucked between hills that shimmered with half-forgotten time.
Elaria paced like a caged animal.
"I can't think here," she said.
"I can't breathe when the sky itself believes I'm something I never wanted to be."
Anterz didn't answer at first.
Then he said:
"What if the Well isn't just in the sky?"
She looked at him, frowning.
He pointed up.
"What if it's in you?"
---
Silence.
Then:
"Then you have to kill me," she said flatly.
Anterz shook his head.
"No. We cut it out."
"How?"
"I don't know."
He stood.
"But we'll find out."
---
That night, they didn't sleep.
They watched the sky.
And the sky watched back.
---
In the early morning, the answer came.
Not in a voice.
In a wound.
The stars bent open.
Not metaphorically.
Literally.
The sky tore along the seam of her constellation.
And a great mirror descended.
Not made of glass.
Made of memory.
It hovered silently over the observatory.
Elaria stood slowly.
Eyes wide.
"They want me to step inside," she whispered.
Anterz stood beside her.
"Then we go together."
She shook her head.
"No."
"This is mine."
---
He grabbed her wrist.
"No."
"If it's a trap—"
"It's not."
She looked at him.
"It's a challenge."
A single tear slipped down her cheek.
"If I win, I reclaim myself."
She kissed his forehead.
And walked into the sky.
---
He watched her vanish into the mirror.
Watched the world hold its breath again.
And waited.
Sword in hand.
---