Cael froze.
The girl's tone wasn't accusing — it was calm, almost kind — but her words struck straight through him.
"Two voices?" Thane asked cautiously.
The girl nodded, her pale hair shimmering faintly under the starlight. "One young and uncertain. The other... old and full of grief. Both bound to the same thread of Aether."
Cael's throat tightened. "How do you know that?"
"I can hear echoes," she said simply, tapping the side of her head. "Voices that linger where souls once spoke. This grove hums with them. It's why I live here."
Thane sheathed his sword slowly. "You're one of the Echo-Seers then — the oracles of the old shrine."
The girl smiled faintly. "Once. Before the Order called us relics."
She stood, brushing off her cloak, and faced Cael. "Your resonance shakes the world around you, boy. It frightens even the silence. You must learn to calm it."
Cael hesitated. "How?"
She extended her hand. "Come to the water."
---
He followed her to the pond. Its surface shimmered faintly with blue light, reflecting the stars above like a second sky.
"Place your hand in," she said. "And listen."
Cael knelt. The moment his fingers touched the water, ripples spread outward — but instead of fading, they formed symbols that glowed softly, ancient letters he didn't recognize.
Then came the voices.
Dozens. Hundreds. All whispering at once, each overlapping in tones of sorrow, pride, and longing.
> "Hold the line."
"Protect the world."
"Forgive us, Commander."
He gasped, pulling his hand back, but the light clung to his skin — the mark on his palm blazing through the bandage.
The girl didn't move. "You carry their memories," she said quietly. "The soldiers who followed you, the lives bound to your soul. They live on through the Aether that remembers everything."
Cael shook his head. "I didn't ask for this."
"No one ever does."
He looked down at the mark, his voice breaking. "If I let them stay, won't they consume me?"
The girl's eyes softened. "Only if you keep denying them. You can't cut away the past — you can only reshape it."
Thane stepped forward, concern creasing his brow. "What does that mean for him?"
"It means," the girl said, "he must learn to speak with his echoes, not fight them. To draw strength without losing himself."
Cael looked at her, uncertain. "You make it sound simple."
"It isn't," she replied. "But it begins with balance. Try again."
---
He knelt once more and pressed his hand into the pond.
This time, he didn't pull away. The voices returned — quieter now, more focused. They no longer screamed or mourned. They waited.
He closed his eyes and whispered, "I'm sorry."
The water pulsed softly.
> "Then learn," a familiar voice answered.
It was his own, but older — steadier. Ardyn Vale's voice.
> "You can't undo what was done. But you can carry it better than I did."
Cael's chest tightened. "How?"
> "By forgiving yourself, before the world forces you to."
The water went still. The mark dimmed. The air around them settled into silence again.
When Cael opened his eyes, the girl was smiling faintly. "Good. You've found the thread. It will quiet the storms — for now."
He pulled his hand free, breathing hard. "That… felt like being two people at once."
"You are," she said. "But that doesn't have to be a curse."
Thane stepped forward, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "You've done well."
The girl turned toward him. "Take him north to the Shrine of Echoes. Tell the High Seer that the Resonant Child walks again. She will understand."
Thane frowned. "And you?"
"I'll stay here. My duty is to listen to what others forget."
She faced Cael once more, her blind eyes somehow gentle. "Remember, Aetherbound — light doesn't just illuminate the world. It remembers it."
---
They left the grove before sunrise. The world slowly brightened, the forest giving way to golden fields brushed by morning wind.
Cael walked beside Thane now instead of riding. The air felt different — lighter somehow, though the weight of what he'd learned still lingered.
After a long silence, Thane said, "You handled yourself well back there."
"I didn't really do anything," Cael replied. "I just listened."
"That's more than most warriors ever learn."
They walked until the sun rose fully. Birds began to sing, and for the first time in days, Cael found himself smiling without forcing it.
Thane noticed. "What's that grin for?"
"I was just thinking," Cael said quietly. "Maybe peace isn't the absence of war. Maybe it's learning to live with what the war left behind."
Thane chuckled softly. "You sound like an old man again."
"Maybe I am one."
The knight shook his head. "Let's hope this time, you get to grow old properly."
They continued down the road, two silhouettes against the rising light — one burdened by memory, the other guided by duty.
But far behind them, in the grove where the pond still shimmered faintly, the Echo-Seer turned her blind gaze toward the horizon and whispered to no one at all:
> "The world remembers Ardyn Vale. And the world will test him again."
---
End of Chapter 7 – Lessons in Light