The journey north was cold.
Kairo traveled alone—hood drawn, blade hidden, eyes distant.
Even the wind seemed to whisper warnings.
Hallowmere awaited.
It was once a sanctuary. Now, it was a wound carved into the land—a valley buried in eternal dusk. Cracked towers reached upward like broken fingers, and dead vines crawled across their bones.
The moment he crossed the boundary stone, he felt it.
The Sixth Seal stirred.
Not just in magic—but in memory.
---
Flash.
A great hall. Marble and starlight.
Samhael standing before a kneeling man—
> "You betrayed the pact."
Then, a blade through the chest. Blood against a stained-glass window.
"This court does not forgive."
Kairo gasped and stumbled.
He was not alone in the ruins.
---
She watched him from above.
The Pale Vow.
Perched among the remnants of a shattered bell tower, wrapped in wind and silence.
She gripped the blade that once belonged to him.
> Why do I hesitate?
> He is the target. The sin given shape.
Yet, when she looked at his back… it was not the monster she saw.
Just a boy. Broken. Walking alone.
---
Kairo reached the Inner Sanctum.
Half-collapsed. Runes cracked.
At its center stood a statue—his own likeness, crowned and robed.
But time had not been kind to it.
The face was scratched out.
Only one word was etched beneath in deep Celestial:
> "Liar."
---
He heard a voice.
Not out loud, but inside.
> Do you remember why you came here?
> Do you remember what you did?
---
The Sixth Seal was embedded in the statue's chest.
But it was locked—not by magic, but by confession.
He had to speak a truth he never wanted to face.
The chamber began to quake.
Stone arms shifted. Magic circled the air like wolves around prey.
---
Suddenly, she appeared.
The Pale Vow landed behind him—silent as a falling petal.
Blade drawn.
Eyes blank.
She lunged.
Steel clashed.
The black dagger—Truthcarver—met the sacred blade she wielded.
Sparks danced.
Kairo backed off, panting.
> "Who are you?" he demanded.
She didn't answer.
She didn't need to.
The blade told him.
> She's like me.
No memories. Just a weapon.
But made for whose war?
---
The chamber pulsed.
The Seal began to glow—reacting to the clash.
They fought again.
But something in her cracked.
When she looked into his eyes, a name tried to crawl out of her throat.
> "S—Sa…" she stammered.
"Samhael…"
The blade fell from her hand.
---
He caught it.
Not to kill—but to offer.
> "You don't have to do this," he said.
> "I don't know what I am," she whispered.
> "Neither do I. But we can find out."
Behind them, the statue broke.
The Sixth Seal shattered.
Energy surged.
Memories poured in.
---
He saw it—
Hallowmere's last trial.
The day he condemned a friend to death.
Not because he had to—but because the Council demanded a sacrifice.
Samhael had obeyed.
Kairo now wept.
> "I was a murderer wearing a mask of justice."
> "And yet," the girl said quietly, "you offered me mercy."
---
They sat together in the ruin's heart, as dawn tried to pierce through the cursed clouds.
Neither spoke for a long time.
Because sometimes, after unlocking truth, all that remains is silence.
And the long walk forward.