The rain came without warning.
No clouds had gathered. No thunder rolled. But from the sky, water fell—soft, silent, and silver. It soaked the burned ground, ran down the broken trees, and washed the blood from the faces of the stone soldiers.
Coker stood in it, unmoving. His body was warm, but the water felt cold against his skin. Like it remembered something he didn't.
Like it wept for what was to come.
Lilin stood beside him, staring at the horizon.
They hadn't spoken since the beast fell. Since Coker's memory—the vision, the dream, whatever it was—had shown him things he wasn't ready to know.
A boy with fire in his chest.
A world that had loved him… then feared him.
And finally, the girl with the white blade.
He hadn't seen her face clearly. Only her back. Only the sword—long, curved, etched with stars—piercing through him as she whispered his name.
"Coker."
He whispered it now. Testing it. Weighing it.
It still felt like his name.
But it also felt like a lie.
---
They walked again, the army behind them growing in number.
Some were old. Others looked barely older than he was now. Their armor was mismatched—some polished, some shattered. But all of them followed him with eyes full of fire.
Coker didn't give commands.
They moved anyway.
The road ahead was overgrown, but the trees bent for him. The sky stayed quiet. The stars—what few remained—shifted uneasily.
Every step he took felt heavier than the last.
Lilin finally spoke.
"Do you feel it?"
Coker nodded. "Like something's watching us."
"It is."
"What?"
She looked straight ahead.
"Your sword."
---
They reached a field full of graves.
No names. Just flat stones sunk into the earth, some cracked, some buried in moss.
The soldiers stopped. Bowed their heads.
Coker's chest tightened. "What is this place?"
Lilin walked forward, arms at her sides.
"This is the Field of the Fallen. Where your chosen died during the last Stand."
"My chosen?"
"You led them here. They fought for you. Against the Sky Watchers, against the Bone Choir, against time itself."
She turned. "And you buried them with your own hands."
Coker knelt beside a grave. Touched the stone. The moment his fingers met it—
—a memory flashed.
The smell of smoke.
The cry of a dying friend.
And his own voice screaming something he no longer understood.
He fell back, gasping.
Lilin caught him. "It's too much. You're remembering too fast."
"I have to."
"You'll lose yourself."
Coker clenched his fists. "Then maybe that's the only way to find who I used to be."
---
At the center of the grave field, a tall pillar stood.
Black. Smooth. No carvings. But it pulsed faintly—like a heart.
Lilin pointed to it. "That's where it's buried."
Coker stepped closer. "The sword?"
She nodded.
"It was called *Noctveil.* You forged it from a dying star. It drank lies and cut through fate. When you sealed yourself, you drove it into the ground to keep it from waking before you did."
He stared at the pillar.
The rain fell harder.
"I don't want to carry that kind of power again," he whispered.
"You already are," Lilin said gently.
"But if I touch it—"
"You won't be the same."
He looked at her. "Would you stop me?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I want to see what kind of god you become."
---
Coker placed his hand on the stone.
It was cold—so cold it burned.
His mark flared, glowing brighter than ever.
The stone cracked.
Light spilled from it—not golden, not white, but deep violet. Like twilight. Like something that didn't belong in this world.
He pulled.
The stone shattered.
And in his hand appeared a sword.
Black. Curved. Thin as a whisper. It bled stars from its edge.
Noctveil.
The sword didn't speak.
But it remembered.
His arms trembled. Not from weight—but from memory. Thousands of them. A thousand battles. A thousand names. A thousand regrets.
He wanted to let go.
But it wouldn't let him.
Lilin stepped back.
The soldiers knelt again.
And the sky…
The sky cracked.
---
A scream echoed—not human.
Not beast.
But ancient.
From the stars above, a silver line broke across the sky. A wound. A gate.
Something began to push through.
Lilin whispered, "The Sky Watchers know now. They see you."
Coker raised the blade.
He didn't speak.
But the sword pulsed.
The rain turned to steam around him.
---
From the wound in the sky, they came.
Winged figures. Glowing gold and silver. Some carried harps, others spears. None had eyes. Just smooth faces and voices like bells.
They didn't land.
They hovered in the air, watching.
One stepped forward, dressed in robes made of clouds.
"You were forbidden to rise again," the Watcher said. "The pact was made. The seal was written in time."
Coker didn't answer.
Another Watcher spoke. "Lay down the blade, Devourer. Let the cycle end."
He still said nothing.
Lilin took a step forward. "He is not your servant."
"He is everyone's servant," the first Watcher said. "And he is everyone's curse."
Coker raised Noctveil.
The blade hummed.
"I didn't choose to come back," he said. "But now that I'm here…"
His eyes glowed faint violet.
"…I'll decide what I become."
---
Lightning cracked the sky.
The Watchers moved.
But Coker moved faster.
One slash—and the air itself bled.
He leapt.
Not like a boy.
Not even like a man.
But like something the world had buried and hoped to forget.
He met the Watchers in the clouds.
The sword whispered.
And fate screamed.
---
The battle lasted seconds. Or hours. Time bent.
When Coker returned to the earth, his clothes were torn. His arm was bleeding. But he still stood.
The sword pulsed. Satisfied.
Above, the Watchers retreated—broken, silent, and afraid.
Lilin looked at him, eyes wide.
"You shouldn't have been able to do that."
"I know."
"Then how did you?"
Coker looked at the graves.
"I think they helped me."
---
That night, the army rested.
Fires burned quietly.
Coker sat alone with Noctveil beside him, stuck in the ground like a guardian.
He stared at the stars.
One fell.
Then another.
He closed his eyes.
And whispered to the night.
"Tell me who I was."
The wind answered.
But it didn't use words.
It gave him a dream.
---
In the dream, he saw her again.
The girl with the white blade.
She stood in the rain, crying.
He stepped toward her.
She turned.
This time, he saw her face.
And he remembered her name.