The stars faded as the vault closed behind them.
One moment, Aela and Kael stood surrounded by impossible galaxies; the next, they were in the quiet hush of twilight—back on the cliffs overlooking Elowen. The pendant had stopped glowing, but the crystal shard pulsed faintly in her hand.
Aela let out a shaky breath. "That place… it wasn't just memory. It was real."
Kael nodded. "The vaults exist between what was and what could have been. They're echoes made solid."
She looked down at the shard. "Then this… is a piece of the Dawn?"
"The first," Kael said. "But not the last."
She tucked it carefully into a pouch at her belt. "How many are there?"
Kael hesitated. "Seven. That we know of."
Aela's eyes widened. "And we have to find all of them?"
"Before the others do," he said.
She narrowed her gaze. "What others?"
Kael stared into the distance. "Time-thieves. Shadow factions. People who want to use the Dawn to reshape history… or destroy it."
A breeze stirred the grass around them, bringing with it the scent of smoke—real smoke. Aela turned toward the village.
The bell tower was ringing.
Her heart dropped. "Something's wrong."
---
By the time they reached Elowen's square, a crowd had gathered. The sky was now fully dark, lit by lanterns and anxious murmurs. A house near the west gate was ablaze, flames licking the edges of the sky. Villagers formed a frantic bucket line, trying to douse the fire.
Aela's uncle, Garran, barked orders near the front. He looked up just as she pushed through the crowd.
"Aela!" he shouted, rushing to her. "Where in all the cracked stars have you been?"
"I—" she faltered. "Up by the old windmill. I heard the bell—what happened?"
"Not sure," he said, sweat streaking his soot-covered brow. "No one saw who started it, but there were signs. Scratches at the door. Scorch marks—before the fire even spread."
Aela exchanged a glance with Kael.
"Wraiths?" she whispered.
"Or someone worse," Kael said quietly. "They know you've started the path."
Garran followed her gaze. "Who's your friend?"
Kael offered a stiff nod. "Traveler. Passing through."
Garran didn't look convinced. "You've got ash in your eyes if you think this is a safe time to pass through anything. Get inside. Both of you. Before someone decides outsiders are to blame."
Aela nodded and tugged Kael away. "Come on. My place is quieter."
---
Garran's cottage sat near the cliff's edge, overlooking the valley. Inside, it was warm and cluttered, full of strange mechanical tools, old books, and more maps than anyone needed. Aela led Kael to the back room—her room—and shut the door.
Kael glanced at the wall of sketches and pinned notes she had collected over the years. Symbols from dreams. Places she didn't recognize. Phrases in languages no one else remembered.
"You've been hearing them a long time," he said softly.
"Since I was seven," she replied. "At first, just voices. Then flashes of places I'd never been. My uncle thought I was broken."
"You're not," Kael said. "You're a fragment."
She blinked. "A fragment?"
He sat on the edge of her desk. "When the Dawn was shattered, some of it didn't just scatter into vaults—it embedded itself into people. Those who could carry memory. Channel it."
She crossed her arms. "So I'm a walking key."
"More like a compass," he said. "You don't just unlock the vaults—you're pulled to them."
"Lucky me," she muttered.
Kael reached into his satchel and pulled out a folded sheet of parchment. He spread it across her table. The paper shimmered faintly in the lantern light, as though it had depth beneath the surface.
A map.
But not of anything she recognized.
"It's fractured," she said, pointing at the disconnected shapes. "Islands floating in air?"
"Memory realms," Kael said. "This map updates when vaults are awakened."
She leaned in. "So that glow—"
"—means the first shard's been claimed," he finished. "The next one is here."
He tapped a section of the map that shifted like ink on water. The landmass was jagged, floating above a dark sea. Etched in faded letters was a name:
"The Archive Below."
Aela shivered. "That doesn't sound promising."
"It's not," Kael said. "It was once a sanctuary of knowledge. Before the collapse. Now it's... unstable. Half in memory, half in ruin."
Aela turned to him. "Then we leave at first light?"
Kael's expression darkened. "We leave now. The fire wasn't random. It was a warning."
She looked toward the window, where flames still smoldered in the distance.
For years she had hidden the things she heard. Now they were chasing her. Burning things to smoke her out.
She clenched her fists. "Then let's go."
---
They left before dawn.
The village was quiet again—too quiet. No dogs barked. No birds sang.
At the edge of the woods, Aela paused and glanced back once at Elowen. The only home she'd ever known. The cliffs. The windmill. The silence.
"Do you think we'll ever come back?" she asked.
Kael looked forward. "Maybe. But if we do, the world won't be the same."
Aela touched the pendant at her chest, then the pouch where the shard rested.
Neither was she.
They stepped into the forest, and the trees closed behind them.