Chapter 19: The Vault of Silent Names
The trio moved fast.
After the shard was claimed, the ground beneath the ruins had begun to fracture. Not from instability—but release. Something buried below the stone had shifted, and it didn't want to stay buried for long.
"We're going to the Vault next, right?" Noah asked as they sprinted across a bridge of floating stone.
Lyra nodded. "There's a shard-map encoded in the one you just claimed. The fourth shard is sealed inside the Vault of Silent Names."
"Sounds cozy," Noah muttered.
"It's not," Riven said. "It's worse."
They ran in silence for a while. The sky above no longer looked cracked—it looked torn. Jagged streaks of raw starlight bled through rips in the firmament. Gravity bent wrong. Time skipped. Once, Noah blinked and saw himself a few steps ahead, then behind again.
"You feel that?" he asked.
Lyra answered without looking back. "The Netherveil is thinning. The more shards you claim, the more real you become here. But it also means the world is unraveling faster."
"Like my sanity," Noah said.
After a few hours—and a fight with a pack of echo-wolves that flickered between dimensions—they reached a chasm where the earth split like an open wound.
At its center stood the Vault.
It wasn't a door.
It was a mouth.
A yawning, stone maw built into the cliff face, framed with mirrored runes and weeping glass tears. Above it, ancient text glowed:
"Here lie the Names that dared remember."
Riven stopped short. "I hate this place."
"Have you been here?" Noah asked.
"No. And I was hoping I'd never have to."
The entrance pulsed once—recognizing the shard in Noah's pocket. The runes ignited.
Then the mouth opened.
Inside was darkness so deep it swallowed the light from their torches. No echoes followed them. No wind. Just silence.
The Vault didn't echo sound.
It drank it.
As they descended into the catacombs, their footsteps felt muted, like the world itself was watching—holding its breath.
"What exactly is this place?" Noah whispered.
Lyra responded with something close to reverence. "When the first Veilwalkers died, this was where their names were stored—so the world wouldn't forget them. It was a sacred place."
"What happened?"
"The echoes learned to copy names. To wear them. So we stopped remembering out loud."
Deeper in, the tunnel opened into a massive chamber—vaulted, endless, and cold. Floating stone obelisks hovered in the air, each inscribed with a single glowing name.
Thousands.
Maybe more.
But most were scratched out.
Noah's eyes scanned them—until one caught his breath.
Vale, Arin
His mother's name?
He stepped toward it—and something in the shadows moved.
At first, he thought it was just his reflection again.
But this one wasn't him.
It was her.
Arin Vale.
Or… something wearing her face.
She stepped from the dark in a long coat of fractured glass, eyes silver-fire, and voice wrapped in thunder and static.
"Noah," she said, calm. "You shouldn't have come here."
He couldn't speak.
She stepped closer. "They used my name. They stole it. But I left something behind for you. A choice."
Lyra reached for her blade. "She's not real."
"I'm as real as he is," the creature hissed, pointing at Noah. "The shard is here. Buried beneath the vault. But it comes with a cost."
"What cost?" Noah whispered.
The echo-Arin reached into her coat and pulled out a single, blank shard. "To claim it… you must forget someone. One person. Forever. Their name, their face. Erased."
Noah froze. "That's insane."
"That's the Vault's price," she said. "Power must come from somewhere. And memory is the oldest fuel of all."
The room began to shake.
The shard rose into the air.
Riven's eyes went wide. "Noah—don't! There's got to be another way!"
But the Vault had already decided.
The shard hovered in front of Noah, humming with raw power.
His reflection appeared again—but instead of mocking him, this time it looked afraid.
Noah reached toward the shard.
One question echoed in his mind:
Who are you willing to forget... to move forward?
He closed his eyes.
And made a choice.
The shard slammed into his palm.
The world shattered.
When he opened his eyes, Lyra and Riven stood beside him—but something was… wrong.
Someone was missing.
He couldn't remember who.
But he felt the ache.
Like a story he'd once loved, now torn from the page.
The Vault was behind them, closed once again.
And the fourth shard burned with quiet power in his grip.
Noah didn't speak.
He just kept walking.