The night stayed strange.
Even after the Fate Warden was brought to its knees, the sky didn't return to normal. The stars above kept shifting, like they were afraid to be still. Some blinked out. Others pulsed red, as if bleeding slowly.
Coker stood beside the giant beast's sleeping body. His hand still burned from the power he had used. But it wasn't just power. It was something else.
Memory.
And it frightened him.
---
Lilin sat on a stone nearby, watching him. Her bell jingled softly in the wind, though the air didn't move.
"You remembered something again," she said.
Coker didn't answer right away.
He looked at the sleeping monster. It had tried to kill him… and yet, something in him had known how to stop it. Not with strength. Not with fear.
But with command.
Like he'd done it before.
He touched the mark on his chest.
"I knew its name," he said finally.
Lilin tilted her head. "The Warden?"
He nodded. "It wasn't always a monster. It had a name once. It used to… guard something for me."
Lilin didn't look surprised. "Before you were sealed, the Fate Wardens served you."
Coker sat down slowly. "Why?"
She stared up at the sky. "Because you were the only one they couldn't kill."
---
The soldiers stood silently behind them, waiting for orders that hadn't come. They were breathing, living… but hollow. Like puppets remembering how to be people.
Coker looked back at them. "How many of them are still frozen?"
Lilin shrugged. "Hundreds. Maybe thousands. Some are buried deep under the earth. Some are sealed in time."
He rubbed his face. "And if I wake them all?"
"You become what you used to be."
Coker stared at her. "What *was* I?"
Lilin looked at him, her voice gentle. "A god."
---
They didn't speak for a while after that.
The silence returned, deeper this time. Even the wind held its breath. The sleeping Warden didn't move. The cliff ahead stood tall, waiting.
Then the sound came.
Not thunder.
Not footsteps.
A *song.*
It was soft at first—like someone humming just beyond the trees. But it grew louder. Closer.
The soldiers heard it too. They tensed, their hands gripping weapons. Some dropped to one knee.
Coker stood quickly. "What now?"
Lilin's face changed. She looked… afraid.
"It's them," she whispered. "The Starborn Choir."
Before he could ask, they appeared.
---
From the forest, a line of figures walked out.
Not marching—gliding.
Tall, thin, wrapped in cloth that shimmered like silver water. No feet touched the ground. No eyes showed beneath their hoods.
But their voices…
Their song made the air vibrate. It wasn't words. It was sound so pure it hurt.
One of the figures raised a long hand. The song stopped.
Then, it spoke.
"You are out of place."
Coker narrowed his eyes. "And you are out of time."
A pause. Then the hooded being tilted its head.
"You carry the mark of the Devourer. Yet your name is not spoken by the stars."
Coker stepped forward. "Maybe the stars forgot."
Another pause. Then:
"Or maybe they were made to forget."
---
Lilin stepped beside him. "Don't fight them."
Coker didn't listen.
"I'm not what I used to be," he said. "But I'm not afraid of finding out."
The hooded being floated closer. "Then speak your name. If the sky still remembers it… we will leave."
Coker's mouth opened.
But no name came out.
Only silence.
He didn't know it.
The air grew heavy. The Starborn hummed again, this time a lower note, like a warning.
Coker clenched his fists. "I don't *need* a name. I have memory."
He raised his hand.
The sky rippled.
The mark on his chest pulsed—once, twice, then exploded in light.
The Starborn recoiled. Their song cracked.
Some fell to their knees.
The lead one groaned. "He still holds the old tongue…"
Coker shouted: "Then remember it!"
A wave of black light rushed from his body, slicing through the air like thunder made of shadow.
The Starborn vanished—no smoke, no scream, just gone.
---
Lilin blinked. "You shouldn't have done that."
"I didn't mean to," Coker said, breathing hard. "It just… happened."
She looked at him carefully. "You're not just remembering now. You're becoming."
He fell to his knees, hands shaking.
"I don't want this."
"You already are it."
---
They camped near the sleeping Warden that night.
The soldiers built no fires. They needed none. Most didn't even sleep.
Coker sat on a rock, staring at his hand. The black veins under his skin had grown. The mark on his chest pulsed with quiet heat, like it was alive.
Lilin sat nearby.
He finally asked her, "Why did they seal me? If I was a god, why lock me away?"
She didn't answer right away.
Then she whispered, "Because gods lie. And even you were afraid of what you might become."
---
He dreamed again that night.
But not like before.
This time, he saw a tower.
Tall. Endless. Made of bones and metal. Floating in space.
At the top, a throne.
On the throne—him.
Older. Wiser. Colder.
The dream-Coker looked down at the stars and whispered, "Reset."
And the stars died.
Every single one.
The sky turned black forever.
Coker woke up screaming.
---
He ran into the forest, gasping, falling to his knees.
Lilin followed, but stayed back.
Coker shouted at the trees, the sky, the world.
"Why me?! I didn't ask for this! I didn't want it!"
The mark flared.
The trees bent away from him.
The birds stopped singing.
Then, a quiet voice from behind.
"You still think this is about choice?"
He turned. A boy stood there.
Maybe ten years old. Barefoot. Dirty clothes. Eyes completely white.
Coker blinked. "Who are you?"
The boy smiled.
"I'm your first memory."
---
The boy stepped closer. "Before the gods. Before the wars. Before the sky knew your name. You were just… a spark."
"A spark?"
The boy nodded. "Of rebellion. Of change. Of something the world wasn't ready for."
Coker whispered, "I don't understand."
The boy pointed at his chest. "But it does."
The mark glowed.
And in that moment, Coker remembered—
A cradle made of stone.
Hands placing him into the earth.
Voices whispering his purpose.
And above them, stars watching.
But one star looked away.
One star feared him.
And that star… *lied*.
---
Coker collapsed.
Tears streamed down his face.
He whispered, "I was never born… was I?"
The boy knelt beside him. "No. You were made."
Coker sobbed. "Why?"
The boy smiled.
"Because the world needed to be broken… before it could begin again."
---
Back at the cliff, the sleeping Warden opened one glowing eye.
It looked toward the forest.
And whispered, "He knows.