Rylan sat apart from the others, the book open on his knees.
The name was still there, etched into the page in ink that shimmered darkly even without light.
Syra.
Just seeing it made his pulse quicken. It wasn't a normal name. It didn't belong in this world—not anymore.
And yet… it knew them.
It had waited.
The book offered no explanation. No history. Just the name, centered on the page, perfectly still. But the air around it felt charged. Alive.
Or worse—aware.
Back at the fire, the others were still pouring over the journal Lina had uncovered. Mira sat hunched forward, eyes locked on the burned pages, knuckles white where she gripped the edge of her blanket. She hadn't spoken much since the glyph in the basin changed.
Ash tossed another twig into the flames. "So. 'Syra.' Thoughts?"
"Feels like a curse," Varyon said.
"It's more than that," Lina said. "The journal didn't name her directly, but the entries shifted after the traitor was mentioned. Every record after that was more frantic. Desperate."
"And then they burned the rest," Mira added softly.
She looked at the others, her voice barely audible. "Why does she know my name?"
Varyon studied her for a long moment before answering. "Because maybe she didn't forget like the rest of us."
Rylan returned to the group without a word and held up the book.
The name was gone.
In its place was a symbol—a perfect circle, ringed with flame and shadow, pierced through by a jagged line that split it in two.
"A seal," Lina said.
"No," Rylan replied. "A shatterpoint."
Mira's eyes widened. "A fracture."
"A wound," Rylan corrected. "In the Circle. In the Veil."
Ash looked between them. "Okay, just so I'm clear—this Syra person? She's not some demon, right? She's… what, a fallen knight?"
Mira didn't answer.
But Rylan did.
"She was The Saint."
The silence that followed was immediate.
Varyon was the first to break it. "That's not possible. The Saint was the pure one. The last line of defense. If she fell—"
"She didn't fall," Rylan said. "She chose."
The fire hissed as the wind rose, soft but sudden.
Mira stood, her eyes distant. "I can hear her again."
Ash moved to her side instantly. "Hear what?"
"Not what," she murmured. "Who."
She stepped just outside the firelight and placed her hand to the nearest stone. It was warm.
Too warm.
She closed her eyes.
And a voice spoke directly into her mind.
"You remember the light, but forget the cost. You remember the Circle, but not the cage. I broke it. You are the crack."
Mira gasped and staggered back.
Rylan caught her before she fell. "What did she say?"
Mira looked up at him, tears brimming in her eyes.
"She's not trying to get out."
"Then what—?"
"She's trying to finish what we stopped."
The fire flared. The book snapped shut on its own.
In the distance, from somewhere deeper in Hollowmere, came a single, haunting sound.
It wasn't human.
And it wasn't alone.