Light dissolved into emptiness.
The moment Arka crossed the threshold, sound vanished. No wind, no breath, not even the faint pulse of his own heartbeat. The world had become a painting of frozen twilight, where time itself seemed uncertain of its direction.
The ground beneath his feet shimmered like glass. Each step left no echo, no trace. Above him, stars hung motionless in the sky, their brilliance muted by a thin veil of silver mist.
He looked around, but there was no horizon. Only an endless expanse of stillness.
Even the astral wolf beside him was quieter than usual, its body outlined in faint light, eyes reflecting countless unseen memories.
Arka spoke, but no sound came out.
Only a ripple formed in the air before fading away.
The wolf turned its head slightly, its gaze sharp. Your voice cannot exist here.
Its words entered Arka's mind directly, bypassing the silence of the world. This is the Silent Realm. A place where forgotten souls dwell, stripped of names, stripped of sound.
Arka frowned. Then how do we move forward?
You don't move forward. You remember.
The wolf's body glowed brighter for a moment, and fragments of starlight drifted outward, forming faint images in the mist. Shapes began to appear figures of people, beasts, and fragments of places long gone.
They were memories.
Not his, but echoes of others who had once existed and vanished without a trace.
The Lost Faces
Arka walked among them, watching the scenes play out.
A young girl kneeling by a frozen river, waiting for someone who never returned.
A warrior bowing before an empty throne.
A beast howling at a shattered moon.
None of them spoke. Their movements repeated endlessly, trapped in loops of sorrow.
These are the forgotten, the wolf said. The ones consumed by silence. They remain here because the world no longer remembers them.
Arka clenched his fists. Then they deserve to be remembered again.
He reached out toward one of the figures a small boy holding a wooden sword.
The instant his fingers brushed the image, pain surged through his body.
Flashes of memory overwhelmed him battlefields, laughter, blood, a mother's lullaby, a scream fading into nothing.
Arka fell to his knees, panting. The wolf rushed forward, its eyes burning with worry.
Careful. Each soul carries the weight of its end. Too much, and you'll drown in their silence.
Arka steadied his breath. I can't ignore them. If this realm exists because they were forgotten, then remembering them is how I fight back.
He rose again, determination in his eyes.
The Woman in the Mist
As he walked deeper, the fog grew denser until he could barely see the wolf beside him.
Then, through the veil of mist, he saw her.
A woman standing beneath a silent tree of glass.
Her long black hair flowed in the wind that did not exist, her pale eyes glowing faintly like dying moons.
Arka froze. His heart trembled.
He knew that face.
"Liora..." he mouthed soundlessly.
But she did not move.
She stood motionless, eyes distant, as if trapped between life and memory.
He ran toward her, ignoring the pressure of the realm that pushed against his every step.
When he finally reached her, he hesitated, afraid that touching her might break the illusion.
He reached out gently and she turned her head.
Her voice entered his mind, soft and empty. You should not be here, Arka.
You're alive... or were alive.
I was. Once. Before the silence reached me.
Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes were full of pain. You carry their voices now, don't you? The souls, the beasts, the fallen.
Arka nodded. I carry them so they won't be lost again.
Liora lowered her gaze. Then remember this every soul you save will draw the silence closer to you. It feeds on memory, on meaning. The more you fight it, the more it listens.
He stepped closer. Then let it listen. Let it hear the names of everyone it tried to erase.
For a moment, she smiled the faintest trace of warmth before her form began to flicker.
If you truly wish to defy the Third Light, you must awaken the Star Seed within your soul. Find it before the silence claims even your name.
Her body dissolved into particles of starlight, merging into the mist.
"Liora!" Arka reached out, but she was gone. Only the faint shimmer of her essence lingered in the air, like a final whisper that would never be heard again.
The Seed of Memory
The wolf padded beside him. The Star Seed... a fragment of creation. It lies dormant in those chosen by fate.
Arka touched his chest.
There, deep within, he felt a faint pulse like the heartbeat of a distant star.
If it awakens, will it stop the silence?
It may. Or it may end everything faster. The Star Seed grants voice to existence itself. But even creation has a cost.
Arka looked up at the endless sky.
Stars flickered faintly, some already gone dark.
He clenched his hand. Then I'll bear that cost. I've already lived in silence once. I won't let it swallow the world.
The wolf bowed its head. Then we walk together, Sovereign.
A path of faint starlight appeared ahead, leading deeper into the mist.
Arka stepped onto it, each footfall igniting tiny bursts of light that resisted the void.
As he walked, the silence trembled.
And somewhere beyond the realm, a pair of unseen eyes opened, watching him with curiosity and hunger.