The cold hit them before they saw it.
The Everfrost Expanse was not a place of snowflakes or gentle drifts. It was a land frozen beyond death—a place where even sound dared not linger. The ground cracked like glass beneath each step. The wind howled like forgotten guilt, and the sky remained locked in eternal twilight.
They arrived on foot. No ship would cross this far north. No animal would willingly step into the frost.
Only the desperate.
Only those seeking something they couldn't carry back.
Ael wrapped his cloak tighter, though no cloth could keep this cold from touching the soul.
"The shard is close," Lyra said, breath visible in the air. "It's somewhere near the center of the expanse. A lake sealed in ice. That's where it sleeps."
Elric stamped his feet. "And what guards it?"
Ael answered before she could.
"Remorse."
—
The deeper they went, the heavier the silence became.
No birds.
No movement.
Even their voices grew dull, like sound itself was frozen in time.
It wasn't until they reached the lake—a vast stretch of ice smoother than glass—that the whispering began.
It started faintly.
Then grew louder.
Voices that weren't real.
But weren't entirely false, either.
Ael heard them first.
"You left them to die."
"You turned your back when they needed you most."
"You claimed to feel again, but your hands are still red."
He clenched his fists.
The others heard their own ghosts.
Lyra staggered, eyes wide. "I never… meant to let her drown."
Elric cursed and dropped to his knees. "No—I killed him to save them. I had to!"
The frost reflected not their faces—but scenes from their pasts.
Twisted.
Brutal.
Unforgiven.
Then the ice cracked.
And from it rose a creature—not beast, not man.
A wraith, made of sorrow made flesh. Its body shimmered like mist frozen mid-scream. Dozens of faces shifted along its skin—each one a victim. Each one someone they remembered.
It floated above the lake.
And it spoke in every voice they had ever wronged.
"Your pain is not enough."
Ael stepped forward.
"I didn't come here to be forgiven."
He drew his blade.
"I came here to remember."
—
The battle was not physical.
Not entirely.
The wraith fought with emotion—striking them with memories, illusions, and truths twisted into barbs. Ael saw his mother's disappointed gaze. Lyra relived her sister's final scream. Elric was forced to watch his comrades fall one by one.
But they didn't run.
They stood together.
And Ael stepped into the wraith's grasp willingly.
It wrapped around him, flooding his mind with every moment he had chosen silence over compassion, steel over comfort.
"You do not deserve to feel."
Ael closed his eyes.
And for the first time, whispered—
"I know."
The wraith paused.
"I carry the sins of a kingdom," he said. "I abandoned those who believed in me. I broke what I swore to protect. I have no right to forgiveness."
He opened his eyes.
"But I won't forget them."
He placed his hand on the wraith's chest.
"I will carry them. Every step forward. Not to escape them—but to honor them."
The frost cracked again.
And from within the creature's core, the shard of remorse shimmered.
It pulsed once.
And flowed into Ael.
The wraith let out a long sigh.
And melted into falling snow.
—
They sat at the edge of the lake in silence.
Not from fear this time.
But from release.
Lyra was the first to speak.
"I thought facing it would break me."
"It didn't," Ael said.
"Then why do I feel so hollow?"
"Because you made room," Ael answered softly. "For something more."
—
Five shards recovered.
Only two remained.
One in a place beyond the mortal world.
And one buried so deep, it had never seen light.
Ael looked up at the dark sky.
And for the first time since his rebirth…
He saw a star.