The night stretched before me, vast and unyielding, an abyss of black silk punctuated by the cold shimmer of distant stars. The streets of Luthadel were eerily quiet, save for the distant murmurs of a city that never truly slept. My footsteps echoed softly against the cobblestone, a slow, meandering rhythm as I let my mind drift.
I had told the others I just needed air, but in truth, I needed space. Space to think. To process.
Azrael.
That name had followed me since the moment I awoke in this world. It wasn't just a fragment of a dream, nor a relic of a distant, half-remembered past. No—I remembered living as Azrael. I remembered my past life with clarity. The streets I walked, the battles I fought, the choices I made. I remembered my death. I remembered the exact moment my old life ended and my new one began.
I had been reborn in this world with all of it intact.
So why did it feel like something was missing?
The question gnawed at me, relentless and unshakable. Ever since I had encountered that thing—the Hunter—something inside me had begun unraveling. The pieces weren't fitting together like they once had. I had thought I understood my existence. I had thought I knew who I was.
But what if I didn't?
A chill ran down my spine, though the night air was barely cool. My fingers curled into a fist at my side.
"You're awfully quiet tonight, Veylara." My voice cut through the silence, low and expectant. I didn't need to call for her—I knew she was there.
The shadows coiled at the edge of my vision, twisting unnaturally, and from them, she emerged. A ripple in reality, a figure of drifting black veils lined with silver, as if woven from the very essence of night itself. She did not walk so much as glide, her presence seamless with the dark.
"And you," she murmured, her voice a silken whisper that carried an undertone of something ancient, "have never been so restless."
Her golden eyes burned through the veil, unreadable as always, watching me in that way she always did—like she knew something I didn't. Like she had been waiting for this moment.
I exhaled slowly, crossing my arms. "I'm always restless. You should know that by now."
"Yes, but this is different." She took a slow step forward, her veils drifting unnaturally as though weightless. "You have that look again, my dear. The one where the walls of your mind have begun to crack."
I scoffed, shaking my head. "They've been cracked for years. You've just never minded the mess."
Veylara tilted her head slightly, amusement flickering in her gaze. But it faded just as quickly, replaced by something deeper. "You are unraveling, Azrael."
I froze.
She had never called me that before. Not directly.
My throat tightened, but I forced my voice to remain steady. "I was Azrael." I met her gaze, my fingers clenching at my sides. "I lived. I died. And then I was reborn here. That's the truth of it, isn't it?"
There was a pause—subtle, but deliberate.
And then, she laughed.
It wasn't a mocking laugh. It wasn't cruel. But there was something about it that sent a chill down my spine—something knowing.
"Oh, my dear." She lifted a hand, as if to brush her fingers against my cheek, but she didn't touch me—just hovered, the cold of her presence making my skin prickle. "You always think you know the shape of your fate."
I frowned. "Always? What the hell does that mean?"
Veylara's golden eyes gleamed, something ancient stirring in them. "Do you truly think Azrael was your first life?"
The world seemed to still.
My heart slowed.
"…What?" The word barely passed my lips.
Veylara's expression softened—not with kindness, but with something deeper. Something like pity.
"You've lived before, my dear." She stepped back, her voice a slow, deliberate melody. "More times than even I can count."
A sharp, cold sensation spread through my chest.
"No," I whispered. "That's not—" I stopped myself, shaking my head violently. "No. That's not possible. I remember my past life. I remember Azrael. That was the first time I—"
"—That you remember." Her voice cut through mine like a blade through silk.
My breathing grew shallow. I took a step back, my boots scraping against the cobblestone.
"You're lying."
"Oh, my dear boy." Her voice was almost gentle. "When have I ever needed to?"
I swallowed hard. My head was pounding now, something pressing against the edges of my mind, something I couldn't reach—a presence, a memory, something that had been buried deep.
I wanted to reject it. I wanted to believe she was just toying with me.
But she wasn't.
Because deep down, something inside me already knew.
My hands trembled slightly at my sides. "Then tell me." My voice was hoarse. "Tell me who I was."
Veylara simply watched me for a long moment. And then, with a small, knowing smile, she whispered:
"Find me, Azrael."
And before I could take another breath—she was gone.
The shadows where she had stood dissipated into nothingness, leaving behind only silence.
I stood there, my body numb, my mind screaming. I wanted to chase after her, to demand answers, to force her to tell me the truth.
But deep down, I knew.
She wouldn't give me the answers.
Because I had to find them myself.
And that… terrified me.
I stood there for what felt like an eternity, my thoughts a tangled storm of uncertainty. The night air felt heavier now, as if the weight of Veylara's words had thickened it, made it harder to breathe.
More lives than even she could count?
It didn't make sense.
I had always known I was reincarnated. From the moment I was reborn as Noctis, the memories of my past as Azrael had been intact. I knew who I was. I had come to terms with it.
But now? Now it felt like my entire existence was just another layer of deception, another carefully veiled truth.
My hands curled into fists.
What was I before Azrael?
What had I forgotten?
I grit my teeth, feeling the familiar pulse of my Rift Magic coiling beneath my skin. It was different from my old Light Magic—where that had been warm and comforting, this was something else entirely. The Rift was cold, hungry, a force that didn't belong in this world. It wanted to take. To consume. To unravel.
And yet… in this moment, I almost wished I could let it.
I needed answers.
I turned back toward the inn, my feet moving on instinct, but my mind was still in that moment, still caught in Veylara's final words.
Find me, Azrael.
She had never called me by my past name before. Not like that. Not with such certainty. It wasn't just a reminder of my past—it was a command. A challenge.
A truth I had yet to unearth.
The inn was quiet when I entered, the dim glow of lanterns casting soft flickers across the wooden walls. The others were asleep by now. Even the usual murmurs of late-night drinkers in the common room had faded.
Good. I didn't want to talk to anyone right now.
I climbed the stairs, my body moving on autopilot until I reached my room.
I barely stepped inside before I felt the warmth of Elaris's presence. She stirred slightly as I approached the bed, her lavender eyes fluttering open, still hazy with sleep.
"Noctis…?" Her voice was soft, still caught between wakefulness and dreams.
I hesitated, my mind still weighed down by Veylara's words. But when Elaris reached for me, instinct took over.
I sat on the edge of the bed, letting her arms wrap around me from behind, her warmth seeping into my skin. She didn't press me for answers. She just held me, her breath slow and steady against my back.
"You were gone a while," she murmured, her fingers lightly tracing over my forearm.
I exhaled, closing my eyes for a brief moment. "Yeah. Just… needed air."
Elaris hummed softly, her hold tightening slightly. "And now you need more than that, don't you?"
I swallowed hard, resting a hand over hers. "Yeah."
A moment of silence passed between us. And then, softly, she whispered, "Talk to me."
I wanted to. Gods, I wanted to.
But how did I even begin to explain that my existence wasn't what I thought it was? That I might not even be who I thought I was?
That maybe, just maybe, I had lived and died more times than I could even fathom?
I turned slightly, meeting her gaze in the dim light. "Elaris," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "If you found out that… everything you knew about yourself was just a fraction of the truth—what would you do?"
She blinked, studying me for a long moment before answering.
"I'd search for the rest of it," she said simply.
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "Even if it changes everything?"
Her expression softened. "The truth doesn't change who we are, Noctis. Just what we know about ourselves."
I stared at her, my chest tightening. I wanted to believe that. I needed to believe that.
But something in my gut told me that whatever I was about to discover… it wouldn't be that simple.
Elaris shifted, resting her forehead against my shoulder. "You're not alone in this," she murmured. "No matter what you find."
I turned my hand over, lacing my fingers with hers.
For tonight, that would have to be enough.
Tomorrow?
Tomorrow, I would begin searching for the truth.