They walked in silence through a narrow corridor slick with condensation, the only sound their footsteps tapping softly on stone. The trial chamber was behind them, sealed now by the Duelmaster's sigil, but its echoes still followed Kael—soft, persistent, and unnerving.
Lira walked ahead of him, her pace brisk.
Kael finally spoke. "You haven't said anything since the duel."
She didn't stop. "Because I don't know what to say."
"I didn't plan to use that... whatever it was. It just happened."
"I know," she said, voice flat. "That's the problem."
Kael reached out, catching her wrist gently.
"Tell me."
Lira looked at him then. Her eyes were sharp, but not cruel.
"There are stories," she said. "Old ones. About people who touched memories so deep they began to carry more than just their own. Collective echoes. Lost knowledge. Sometimes magic. Sometimes madness."
Kael let go. "You think that's what I'm becoming?"
"I think you're pulling things that weren't meant to surface."
Before Kael could respond, Corren joined them from a side passage, now dressed in the ceremonial cloak of House Valis. The silver thread caught the torchlight.
"You're stronger than you realize," he said. "But strength without shape is dangerous."
Kael turned to him. "You think I'm becoming Rin again."
Corren studied him carefully. "I don't know. But if you are... make sure you like what you find."
Kael opened his mouth to respond, but the words didn't come. He couldn't tell if he felt fear, or something worse—recognition.
Ahead, the corridor opened into a vast descending staircase carved in a spiral of dark crystal. The Vault lay below, heavy with memory and silence.
Lira adjusted the satchel on her shoulder.
"No more tests," she said. "Next stop is the truth."
Kael nodded.
But deep down, he already suspected the truth wasn't buried.
It was waiting.