Chapter Eight – We Do Not Forget
Part One – The Ones Who Believed Him
The Harmonic Lyceum had never been quiet.
Not truly.
It hummed—beneath the floors, behind the stone, under the breath of every corridor and echoing stairwell. Not a song, not even a vibration. Just… resonance. A pulse only those who had lost something could hear.
That morning, it felt louder.
Kaelen Voss walked through the outer gate with his coat half burned and his boots stained in ash. Yolti trailed him, quieter than usual, her fingers brushing the empty pulse crystal tied to her sash. The sky above Celestis Veil had turned pale, and the wind whispered just a little too long between their footsteps.
The Lyceum courtyard had changed since the last time Kaelen truly saw it. Students laughed louder. Instructors moved like statues. The pulse walls flickered with the Doctrine's presence—quiet, polished, sanitized.
They'd just watched Zephryn stand alone in fire and silence.
They'd just watched the impossible.
And no one here knew.
Not yet.
"Where's Sylie?" Kaelen asked, not stopping.
"She's not back from Medic recon," Yolti answered, adjusting her satchel. "But Rhea and Kellian are on grounds. Liora too. They'll want to know."
Kaelen nodded once. His hand rested over the burn mark near his hip—where the lightning had arced too close. He could still feel it humming.
They stepped into the common hall, boots clacking once against polished marble.
Kellian looked up first from a row of glyph scrolls.
"Kaelen?" he blinked. "You're back early. What happened to your coat—"
"He's alive," Kaelen said.
The room froze.
Kellian tilted his head. "Who?"
Yolti stepped forward, eyes steady. "Zephryn."
A pause.
Then: "No."
"Kaelen," said Rhea from the steps behind them, "that's not funny."
"It's not a joke."
"Zephryn died six years ago," Liora said, standing now. Her white braid hung tight, arms folded. "You were there when they told us. You were there when we buried what was left."
Yolti's breath hitched. "We never saw the body."
"You saw what the Choir let you see," Kaelen said. "But I saw him. Last night."
He stepped into the center of the hall. Vessa turned in the corner, Elari behind her.
"I saw lightning rip through Riftborn like it was cast from the first hum. I saw the Crystal Monarch move like it remembered her hand."
"I saw him."
No one answered.
Until Nima said quietly: "Then why didn't he come home?"
That question cracked the wall.
Kellian looked away. Rhea crossed her arms. Liora sat back down. Even Vessa shook her head, quietly.
"You saw something," Elari offered. "But maybe it wasn't him. Maybe you wanted it to be."
Kaelen's jaw clenched.
"I know my brother."
"He was your squadmate," Torr said from the upper balcony, leaning against the rail. His voice was cold. Unmoved. "Not your brother. And if it was really him, why'd he wait six years to show his face?"
Kaelen looked up, nostrils flaring. "Because he thought he was dead."
"Then maybe he should've stayed that way."
The silence fell like a dropped blade.
Yolti turned. "Take that back."
Torr shrugged. "Blue-haired boy was unstable before he disappeared. Maybe the Rift just finished what the Veil started."
Kaelen moved.
One step, then another.
He was halfway up the stairs when Riko stepped in between.
Shorter, arms crossed, gloves on, voice dripping with that sharp, effortless arrogance that only came from someone who thought they understood pain.
"You're grieving, Kaelen," Riko said. "We all are. But don't throw ghosts into the Lyceum. We've all had to grow up."
Kaelen stopped. Breath shaking. Hand twitching near his side.
Yolti's voice came from behind. "He didn't hallucinate. I saw it too."
"Then maybe both of you should get your marks checked."
That was it.
Kaelen's fist shot forward—just shy of Riko's jaw. A blue spark flared down his arm, unbidden. The glyph on his knuckles pulsed.
But he didn't strike.
Because behind them, someone moved.
Selka stood in the archway.
Hair slightly unbound. Blade at her hip. Expression unreadable.
She had heard every word.
Kaelen turned. "Selka—"
But she walked past him. Past Riko. Past Yolti. Not looking at anyone.
Her pace didn't break.
She didn't speak.
She just walked straight out the gate.
And no one followed.
Outside, the Lyceum wind bit hard.
She didn't pull up her hood. She let it sting. Let it cut. Let it remind her she was still here. Still feeling.
Zephryn was alive.
They hadn't believed Kaelen.
She had. The moment she heard the hum behind his voice.
The moment her glyph had stirred.
She hadn't told anyone. She hadn't cried. She hadn't yelled.
But now—she didn't need permission.
Didn't need orders.
Didn't need the King.
Didn't need the Choir.
She needed him.
And if the Doctrine wanted to stop her?
They'd have to follow her into the trees.