In the darkest trench of the Inner Sea, where sunlight had never reached and time itself felt frozen, a silver coffin opened.
No hinges. No sound. Just unmaking.
Out of the coffin floated a man—or what had once been one.
The Seeker.
He bore no face. No eyes. No mouth. Only skin etched with countless runes that glowed faintly with the blue of dead stars. His presence tore through the water, sending ancient leviathans fleeing in terror.
And with his return, names began to vanish from the world.
A forgotten town in the Sandspire Wastes disappeared.
A noble bloodline once known for its prophecy lost its lineage and memory.
One by one, pieces of history unthreaded like seams pulled loose from reality.
And the Seeker turned his gaze northward.
Toward Althar Flameborn.
Stormbreak Vale – One Day Later
Kaelis rode at Althar's side, cloaked and hooded. She had not spoken much since their meeting at the frost-fire altar, but her presence changed everything.
Seris was wary. Ariya, furious.
"You're trusting her?" Ariya hissed as they rode toward Valebridge. "She was raised in the Empress's court. Trained by soulkillers. She could still be a weapon."
"She could," Althar said simply. "So was I."
That quieted her, though her glare didn't soften.
Kaelis said nothing. But a flicker passed through her eyes—something close to regret.
Inside the hold, they gathered their closest.
Seris. Ariya. Braeg, the quiet commander of the Flameborn's southern wing. And now, Kaelis.
"We don't have time to debate loyalty," Althar said. "The Empress has unleashed something new. Something ancient."
Kaelis spoke at last.
"She's using her last weapons now. The Seeker is not a soldier. He's a relic of death—a being that can erase anything tied to memory, magic, or blood."
"Erase?" Seris asked. "What does that mean?"
Kaelis answered, "You forget something existed. A sword. A person. A city. The world moves on as if it never was. And you feel the hole, but you can't name it."
Ariya paled. "She's sending that after you?"
"He's not just after me," Althar said. "He's after us. Our rebellion. Our name."
Kaelis pulled out a scroll—a crude map sketched in forgotten glyphs.
"There's one place the Seeker can't reach," she said. "A sanctum beneath the Hollowed Peaks. An old temple built before language. We go there. We anchor our names."
Seris frowned. "Anchor?"
"If the Seeker erases you, you disappear. But if your true name is bound in sacred script, it can tether your existence."
Althar looked at the map, then at Kaelis.
"You knew this would happen."
Kaelis nodded. "She raised me to replace you, Father. But in doing so, she taught me her greatest fears."
He didn't flinch at the word father.
But neither did he reject it.
That night, Kaelis sat alone by the outer wall, gazing up at the stars.
Ariya approached, hand resting on her dagger's hilt.
"Do you remember the name of the hound you poisoned?" she asked.
Kaelis turned. "Fenn. He used to follow you even when you didn't feed him."
"I buried him myself," Ariya said flatly. "So don't expect me to forgive you with one show of loyalty."
"I don't want forgiveness," Kaelis replied. "I want justice. And I want to destroy the woman who made me believe I was nothing but a knife."
Ariya studied her. Then, slowly, she sat beside her.
No words were exchanged.
But something shifted.
Far away, the Seeker walked through the ruins of Ashenwell, a town that had once sheltered Flameborn refugees.
His steps left no mark in the dust.
The people were gone.
Not dead—forgotten.
The town's name faded from maps, then from memory. Even the stars above dimmed slightly, as if mourning what had been removed.
And the Seeker turned west.
Toward the Hollowed Peaks.
Toward the ones who still remembered.