The sun broke through the shattered sky in slivers of bloodred light.
They left the ruins behind at dawn, but the weight they carried wasn't left with the stones.
It clung to them.
To their steps.
To the spaces between their words.
---
Lucius led again.
His stride stronger than before—
but heavier too, like every piece of himself he reclaimed added another weight to the chains he refused to break.
The Blade of the Last Name pulsed at his side, hungry, remembering alongside him.
---
Claire stayed close, a half-step behind, as if afraid he might fall again.
Zara flanked him at the front, scanning the broken woods with sharp, restless eyes.
Velda walked further back, muttering calculations and weaving minor stabilizing spells into the dirt beneath their feet.
And Lilith?
Lilith walked silently at Lucius's side—her wings dragging low, casting long shadows across the road.
---
For a long time, there was no sound but the crunch of dead leaves.
No words.
No songs.
Only the quiet battle of breathing through the weight none of them knew how to name.
---
When they finally stopped to rest, they found themselves in a hollow where the trees broke apart—
leaving a circle of dead grass and crumbling stones.
It wasn't shelter.
It wasn't safety.
But it was enough for now.
---
Lucius sat at the center of the hollow, back against a fractured stone pillar.
His blade resting beside him like an old wound.
He stared at the sky—not in anger.
Not in longing.
Just... staring.
As if daring it to forget him again.
---
Claire unpacked what little food they had left.
Zara sharpened her blades by muscle memory alone.
Velda sketched runes into the dirt, lips pressed thin in concentration.
Lilith stood with her back to them all, her face unreadable.
---
Minutes passed.
Maybe hours.
None of them moved to speak.
Because all of them understood—
The silence wasn't uncomfortable.
It was sacred.
It was the space where words would either mean everything—
Or nothing at all.
---
Lucius closed his eyes.
Memories brushed against him again:
A boy standing alone at a funeral.
A girl spinning beneath a broken streetlamp.
A whisper on a cracked bridge: "Live. Even if no one remembers."
---
He breathed in slowly.
Then spoke.
Voice low.
Rough.
Like dragging something sharp out of his own chest.
> "Before Sovarion, before Lucius... I had another name."
The girls froze.
Every heartbeat felt like a drum in the hollow.
Lucius opened his eyes.
---
> "Lucien Vale."
---
Claire dropped the bread she was holding.
Zara froze mid-sharpening.
Velda's hands tightened around her rune chalk until it snapped.
Lilith didn't move.
Didn't even flinch.
Only listened.
---
Lucius kept talking.
Because if he stopped now, he wouldn't start again.
> "I wasn't born in this world. I wasn't born to be a king.
I wasn't even born to be remembered."
> "I was just... a boy. A boy who knew what it felt like to be invisible."
His voice shook.
But he didn't stop.
---
He spoke of cold nights under broken streetlamps.
Of hunger that gnawed louder than loneliness.
Of friendships that crumbled faster than the promises that built them.
He spoke of her—
The girl with wildfire eyes and a broken laugh.
The girl he promised he would remember forever.
The girl he couldn't even save.
---
> "She died because I was too afraid to reach out."
> "Because I thought someone like me didn't deserve to hold on to something so bright."
---
The fire crackled between them, spitting embers into the dark.
No one spoke.
No one interrupted.
They let him bleed it out.
Because some wounds didn't need bandages.
They needed witnesses.
---
Lucius dragged a hand through his hair.
The silver strands catching the dying light.
> "When I died... when I thought it was over...
I thought that was justice."
> "No one would remember me. And that was fair."
---
His voice lowered.
Almost a whisper.
> "But someone did remember."
> "Something did."
> "And it brought me here."
> "Not to be a hero. Not to be a king.
Not to save the world."
---
He looked up at them—at Claire, at Zara, at Velda, at Lilith.
Eyes burning with a pain too old for this world.
> "I was brought here... to remember."
> "To carry the memories the gods wanted erased."
> "To be the one who survives when everyone else forgets."
---
The silence after was a living thing.
It wrapped around them all, binding them tighter than any oath.
---
Claire wiped at her face fiercely, as if angry at her own tears.
Zara slammed her blade into the ground beside her and looked away, her jaw clenched tight.
Velda knelt and rewrote the broken rune in the dirt over and over, hands trembling.
Lilith walked over.
Sat beside him.
Said nothing.
Just leaned her head against his shoulder.
And stayed.
---
Lucius closed his eyes.
For the first time in a long time, he wasn't alone in the silence.
He was surrounded by people who didn't need to understand everything—
Just enough to stand with him.
---
Some promises die.
Some fade.
But the ones that matter—
The ones made with broken hands and bleeding hearts—
Those stay.
---
And as the stars bled into the ruined sky—
Lucius made a new promise.
Not to gods.
Not to heroes.
Not even to himself.
To them.
To the ones who stayed.
To the ones who refused to let him die forgotten.
> "I'll remember you too."