The night air over the Shattermarch was dry and
brittle. Dust danced in slow spirals, drifting like memory fragments that had slipped loose of their owners. Echo-Ward lumbered forward, each footstep echoing against the hollow ridges.
Kian stood beside the central console, its Codex glyphs pulsing faintly in the dim light. There had been something wrong in the data all evening. A subtle inconsistency. The kind of wrongness that only the systems could feel.
Kess sat alone, curled on a bench near the scroll racks, clutching a tin cup of bitter root brew. Her eyes stared through the floor, unfocused. The others had noticed her silence—she hadn't spoken much since the ruins of the Skyhook.
"You're shaking," Kian said, approaching gently. He crouched to meet her gaze. "Is it the scroll?"
She blinked. Slowly. Then gave a slight shake of the head. "He's close."
"Who?"
Her fingers tightened around the cup. "The one who taught me how to forget."
Memory fragments drifted up from her thoughts— A boy with no name, taken in by cloaked figures who worshipped silence. A library made of flesh and ink. A teacher who erased more than he taught.
Ashar Vale. He hadn't aged in her memory. And that frightened her most.
Kian leaned against the railing above the deck, watching for anything out of place. The systems were growing agitated. Readings blurred. Echo signals twisted into loops. Beneath his boots, Echo-Ward shifted uneasily.
Codex Warning: External Memory Interference Detected Predation System: Mental Override – Proximity Spike
He didn't need the systems to tell him anymore. Something was coming.
"Everyone on alert," he called. "Close gates, power the anchor runes. No one leaves Echo-Ward until I say so."
From above, Gellon shouted, "Crows just scattered! We've got movement in the ash!"
It wasn't a group. It wasn't a beast. Just a lone man, walking straight through the storm.
White robes fluttered around him like drifting parchment. His hair was pale, almost bleached. He moved without haste, unaffected by the wind, the dust, or the rules of reality.
He stopped at the base of the walker, head tilted, studying them as if recalling something.
"I know that face," Kess whispered behind Kian. Her voice cracked like ice. "He shouldn't be here."
The man looked up. His smile was gentle.
"You built well, Kian Vale," he said. "But you build to forget."
Kian took a step forward, spear in hand. "You know my name. Tell me yours."
"Ashar Vale. Keeper of echoes. Maker of minds. I taught your friend everything she knows."
Kess stumbled as she stepped down from the platform. Her fingers curled into fists, and a long, narrow knife slid from the sleeve of her robe.
"Leave," she said, voice trembling. "You have no place here."
Ashar tilted his head, as if disappointed. "You stole your name from me, child. Let's not pretend otherwise."
Then the air changed.
Kian gasped.
The world around him blurred. Flames danced where there was no fire. Marra's dying scream filled his ears. Veyna's charred silhouette turned to ash beside him. It wasn't real. It couldn't be.
But the memories felt...true.
Codex Anchor Triggered: Mindroot Stabilization Attempted
Pain ripped through his skull. Systems fought against the surge, but Ashar's intrusion was deep—subtle. Not brute force. A whisper rewriting foundations.
"You carry guilt like a stone," Ashar said. "Wouldn't it be easier to forget?"
Kian staggered backward.
A flash of silver sliced through the illusion. Kess hurled her blade—it struck true, burying itself in the illusion's shoulder.
Ashar flickered, the false image dissolving. His true form stood ten paces back. Calm. Still smiling.
"Still incomplete," he said. "You learned the threads. But not how to weave."
Kess stepped forward.
Light shimmered around her hands—threads of silver memory weaving through her fingers.
Codex Branch Unlocked: Memory Stitcher — Thoughtweaver Class Skill Gained: Thread Severance – Allows detachment of foreign memory from host
She hurled her hand forward, threads coiling through the air. They struck Kian, wrapping around his skull—cool, clean, precise. The false memories shattered.
Kian breathed again. The weight lifted. The scream stopped.
"You taught me to forget," Kess said, voice steady. "But I remember why I left."
Ashar's smile faded for the first time. "Then remember this."
His form collapsed into smoke.
The battle lasted seconds. But it left everyone shaken.
Back inside the walker, Kess sat wrapped in her blanket, forehead resting against her knees. Kian placed a stabilizer rune gently on her chest. Her breathing steadied.
"Thank you," she murmured. "I thought I'd always be his shadow."
"You're not," Kian said quietly. "Not anymore."
He stepped up to the viewport. Frostveil's mountain tips glittered faintly in the distance.
They were one day away from a kingdom said to dream in snow and memory.
But tonight, they would rest. And remember what must not be forgotten.
System Note:
Thoughtweaver Class active: Kess may now defend against memory attacks and assist system decoding Ashar Vale remains at large — threat class unknown
End of Chapter 21