"She spoke only once.
But the stars still echo her name."
---
The Vowshard trembled in the air, pulsing like a heartbeat made of flame.
Each beat echoed in Aralyndra's bones.
She stepped closer, and for a moment, she wasn't just herself. She was every version of herself that had ever been.
The Silent Bride.
The Queen of Embers.
The Child of the Ninth Choir.
The one who once sang the First Kingdom into being…
And the one who burned it to ash.
> "It wants you to remember," Karna said.
> "I don't want to remember what I did," she whispered.
> "You didn't break the world," he said. "You gave it a choice. That's why they feared you."
---
She reached out.
And touched the Vowshard.
The mountain screamed.
---
Light swallowed the chamber—blue and gold and bleeding silver, runes igniting along the walls like veins of divine memory.
And Aralyndra remembered:
> A castle made of glass and bone.
Her voice raised in defiance.
The gods trembling as she unmade their thrones with a single verse.
Karna dying—again and again—always at her side.
And the moment she sang the True Name of Heaven… and burned it from existence.
Her knees buckled.
The shard flared.
And she spoke.
Not a whisper.
A song.
---
It wasn't loud.
It wasn't angry.
It was mournful.
Beautiful.
The kind of sound that made even the mountain weep.
The kind of sound that made time slow down.
The kind of voice that remembered what it meant to make the world.
Karna knelt, head bowed.
Not from reverence.
But because the vow she sang now was too ancient, too raw, and too true.
> "I name myself," she sang.
"Not as a bride. Not as a queen.
But as the Voice."
> "I reclaim my name: Astraeva."
> "And by it—I break all chains."
---
The temple responded.
Chains split.
Rocks fell.
The Vowshard shattered—not into destruction, but into flight.
It divided into twelve fragments, each bearing part of the old power.
One flew into Aralyndra's chest.
One into Karna's hand.
And ten scattered across the world—into the skies, the oceans, the hands of those destined to join them… or oppose them.
The mountain awoke.
And so did the world.
---
🌑 Elsewhere…
Far in the south, a child opened her eyes as the sea split for one breathless moment.
In the west, a knight felt his forgotten oath sear across his arm again like fire.
In the far north, a prisoner stopped aging.
And across the skies—
The Rebellion saw the signs.
Their sleeping runes lit.
Their ancient drums beat again.
The Vowborn Queen had returned.
---
⚔️ The Rebellion: Three Days Later
A war camp formed in the Ashmarch valley—black tents, golden standards, and the sigil of the Burning Crown raised high.
Three leaders stood at the center:
Kaelen Vox – the exiled tactician who betrayed a throne to follow a dream
Mother Thorne – a former high priestess turned heretic, keeper of forbidden vowcraft
The Crimson Warden – his face hidden, his blade known to kings and gods alike
They bowed before the mountain's shadow.
And as Aralyndra and Karna descended the path of ash and stone—
> The entire army knelt.
Not to a goddess.
Not to a queen.
To the Voice.
---
"Will you lead us?" Kaelen asked.
Aralyndra stared at him.
> "No," she said. "I'll do worse.
I'll teach the world how to speak again."
---
Far above, the Pale Matron gazed down into a scrying mirror.
She smiled.
> "Let her sing.
When the last vow breaks… she'll learn what she truly was made to destroy.