Whispers about Haera start before she even walks into the cafeteria.
She hears them — scraps of sentences, half-laughed jokes — but everyone pretends she's invisible. All except Cairos, who stares at her from across the room like they're the only two people alive.
That afternoon, a sealed envelope appears in her locker. No name. Just an old-school wax seal with a crescent moon and quill. Inside: a handwritten note.
"There are rules we follow here. You're breaking them. Stop remembering."
Haera's pulse races. She scans the hall but no one is watching — or so it seems.
In the library, she finds a red-bound book that wasn't there before. Titled simply: The Unwritten.
It has no author. No barcode. No publishing stamp.
When she opens it, the pages are filled with rules. Not school rules — spiritual ones. Soul rules.
"Do not awaken memory before the veil thins."
"Do not bond with your echo unless the cycle is complete."
"Once awakened, the soul must choose — remember or return."
The last page is blank. Until she touches it.
Then one sentence appears: "He dies if you love him too soon."
Cairos appears behind her like a shadow.
"You found it," he says.
She turns, gripping the book. "What is this?"
He shrugs. "The only truth this place hides."
"I don't understand any of it."
"You will. But not yet."
That night, Haera dreams again. She and Cairos are running through snow. Soldiers behind them. Her hands are red. His eyes — still silver — hold grief. But even in that life, she loved him.
She wakes with tears on her cheeks and a burning question:
What if remembering him is the thing that destroys them both?