The dawn never came.The sun was still hidden behind the endless eclipse that crowned the dying horizon, bathing the wasteland in a dull crimson haze. The light didn't warm—it bled.
Aren trudged across the cracked earth, boots sinking into soot and bone dust. His cloak, once bearing the royal crest, was now torn and blackened. The air was heavy with the silence of a dead world.
Each step echoed a question in his mind.
"Why was I spared?"
The Covenant Web had judged him. It had punished his kingdom. Yet somehow, he still breathed. Maybe that was its cruelest punishment of all—to live when every vow around him was broken.
He touched the burning mark on his hand. The Seal pulsed faintly, as if it were alive. Sometimes, when the wind grew still, he could hear it whispering—fragments of oaths he didn't remember making.
"Protect… Restore… Destroy…"
He gritted his teeth. "I won't die here. Not until I find the truth."
The road stretched endlessly through charred forests and shattered monuments. Every ruin told a story—a promise broken, a dream undone. He passed statues with missing heads, temples cracked by divine anger, and once-sacred altars desecrated by blood.
Hours passed. The wind shifted.
And then… he heard it.A sound that didn't belong to this silence.Music.
Faint, delicate—like a flute made of glass. It carried through the haze, haunting and beautiful.
Aren followed it, cautious. His hand hovered over the hilt of his sword—now chipped and dull from the battle that ended his world. The closer he got, the clearer the melody became… until he saw her.
A girl sat atop a crumbled archway, legs swinging, a white cloak fluttering around her like wings. Her silver hair shimmered faintly under the red light of the eclipse. She played a strange, transparent instrument that looked carved from crystal. And around her… the ashes didn't move. The wind stopped.
It was as if the world itself listened.
Aren spoke first, his voice rough."You shouldn't be here."
The girl stopped playing. Her pale eyes turned toward him—eyes that didn't reflect light but absorbed it.
"And yet, here I am," she said softly. "Like you."
She hopped down, landing lightly on her feet. The ashes around her stirred, drawn to her presence.Aren noticed something strange—every step she took left no prints.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"Someone who listens," she replied, smiling faintly. "The world's full of voices now. Screaming ones. Lying ones. I follow them."
He frowned. "You can hear them?"
She nodded, tapping her ear. "Every lie carries an echo. And yours, Oathbreaker, screams louder than any other."
Aren froze.She knew.
"How do you know that name?"
"I don't." Her tone turned serious. "The wind told me."
A gust swept through the ruins, carrying whispers that only she seemed to understand. Then she looked at his hand—the glowing Seal.
"So it's true," she murmured. "You broke a vow witnessed by the Web itself."
Aren stepped back, hand tightening on his sword. "If you came to judge me, don't waste your breath."
She tilted her head. "Judge you? No. I came to see what kind of man survives Retribution."
Her voice was calm, but her eyes held something else—a quiet sorrow.
Aren sheathed his sword slowly. "Then what do you want?"
The girl turned away, gazing toward the black horizon."Names first," she said. "Mine's Lyra. Once a Listener of the Eastern Spires."
"A Listener?" Aren echoed.
She smiled faintly. "We were trained to hear truth in vows, lies in prayers, and intent in silence. The last of us died years ago… except me."
The wind carried her words away, leaving only the whisper of ash.
Aren studied her. There was a stillness around Lyra that reminded him of the Witness he'd seen—the same gravity, but lighter, human. Yet her presence made the Web inside him stir.
He finally said, "Aren Voss."
Lyra's expression flickered. "The prince of the fallen kingdom."
"Not anymore."
Silence stretched between them. Then she said quietly,"If you're walking the path of the Web, you won't survive alone."
He met her gaze. "And you'd help me?"
"I didn't say that." Her lips curved slightly. "But your lie burns the world around you. If you fall, I'll hear it."
She turned to leave.But before she vanished into the ash, she added, "Head north. There's a place called the Sanctuary of Echoes. The Web is… noisy there. You might find what you're looking for—or what's left of it."
Then she was gone, her form dissolving into dust, leaving only the faint sound of the flute drifting in the air.
Aren stood alone again.But this time, the silence felt different.It wasn't empty—it was waiting.
He looked toward the north, where dark mountains pierced the horizon.
"Sanctuary of Echoes," he muttered."If that's where truth hides, I'll drag it out."
The wind whispered behind him—soft, mocking, alive.
"Another promise, Oathbreaker?"
He ignored it and walked on, his shadow stretching long under the dying sun.Each step left a faint trail of crimson light — the mark of a man cursed by his own words.
And somewhere far above, unseen threads of the Covenant Web trembled.
The world had taken notice.