The staircase was carved from night.
Seriously, not even stone, not shadow—something deeper. Like somebody had hacked it out of pure silence. Each step Elara took, she felt all these memories pressing in. Not her own, nope—just scraps of voices, old songs, random fears, all jammed in the mountain's bones.
Virella followed behind, quiet for once. The fearless Watcher of the Seventh Star? Yeah, even she looked spooked.
Elara whispered, "Are we still in the world?" Her words barely made a dent in the thick hush.
Virella shook her head. "Nope. We're under it. Outside time, kinda. This is the Starwell."
The air got colder. Not like ice-on-your-skin cold—more like the chill of secrets that should've stayed buried. Truths, old dreams, warnings, you name it. Elara's palm glowed—thank the stars—lighting their way until the stairs spat them out onto this platform, just hovering above a monster abyss.
Floating in the dark? Fragments of stars. Not whole, just shards spinning around something invisible, each one humming its own weird tune.
And smack dab in the middle… a prison.
Light woven together, all silvery and singing, wrapped around this figure just hanging there. Eyes closed. But under their skin? Flickers of dark fire.
Virella's breath hitched. "The Fallen One…"
Elara edged closer. "Is that… a Starless?"
Virella grimaced. "No. Worse. One of the first. Chose silence over song. Betrayed it all. Tried to swallow the Whisper instead of guarding it."
The whole place shuddered. The prisoner twitched. That voice—man, it was rough, like it'd been dragged through a thousand years—but heavy as a sledgehammer.
"You… are the new voice…"
Elara stood firm. "I'm the melody come back. You tried to snuff it out."
"I tried to end its pain," the figure croaked. "The Whisper—it burns. Creates, destroys. You don't get the weight it brings."
"Maybe not," Elara breathed. "But I will. I'll learn. And I'll guard it."
The light-threads shivered.
"Then listen."
Outta nowhere, a blast slammed into Elara's chest. Not pain, not heat. Just… sound. A memory that wasn't hers.
Stars being born in nothingness. Galaxies singing, all together. Then—bam—silence. Ugly, empty silence, while one voice—fierce, proud, hurting—ripped itself apart to light up the whole universe.
The Whisper? Not a star.
A being. A guardian. Gave up everything to save creation.
And now, that spark lived inside her.
Elara almost fell. The truth hit like a truck.
Virella grabbed her arm. "You saw it, huh?"
Elara nodded, slow. "It's not just some power. It's alive."
And right then, it clicked.
"If the Starless want the Whisper back…" Elara turned to the stairwell, eyes blazing. "They'll have to get through me."