The desert wind shows no mercy.
It cuts the skin, invades the eyes, and makes even the silence of the world feel like a distant memory.
We had been walking for two days through what Celine called the Plains of Dareth, a region so hot that even thoughts seemed to evaporate before turning into complete sentences.
"If the next fragment of the flame is here," said Vespera, fanning her face with her hand, "then whoever hid it definitely hated comfort."
"Elara," I said, dragging my feet through the sand, "are you sure the map is right?"
"That's the third time you've asked me that," she replied without looking back. "And the answer is still the same: yes."
"Great. Because all I see is sand, more sand, and a lizard that's been judging me since we got here."
The lizard was indeed standing there, watching us from atop a rock. When I took a step, it darted straight into a crevice.
Liriel stopped, her gaze fixed on the same point. "The crevice. It's there."
We approached. The crack in the ground widened into a narrow passage descending into a cave illuminated by a bluish glow.
Celine touched the edge of the crevice, her voice firm. "The fragment is down there. I can feel the same energy as the other echoes."
Vespera raised her arm enthusiastically. "Whoever gets down first earns the right to not die first!"
"Congratulations, you already won," I muttered.
The cave was cold—a nearly cruel contrast to the heat outside. The walls bore ancient inscriptions, and the floor was covered with crystals reflecting the blue light in a thousand directions.
At the center, a stone circle. Inside it, something burned silently: a small suspended flame, surrounded by broken statues.
Liriel approached cautiously. "These statues… they're monks of Dareth. They guarded the well of voices."
"The well?" I asked.
"They believed that every regret left behind a sound, and that here, the echoes of those voices accumulated. They say that anyone who listens too much goes insane."
"Perfect," I sighed. "A place where the sound of guilt is literal. We're doing great."
Celine knelt near the flame. "This energy… it's different. It doesn't feel like a memory. It's more… heavy."
Vespera looked around. "Heavy like a trap, or heavy like a repressed feeling?"
"Both," Celine replied.
Before anyone could react, the ground shook.
A deep sound filled the air, as if a thousand voices whispered at once. The blue flame expanded, and a figure began forming within it.
A hooded man, with broken chains on his wrists. His eyes were living fire.
"Who dares wake the guilt of Zephyron?"
"I should start putting warning labels on everything I touch," I murmured.
The figure raised his hand, and the air vibrated. The voices turned into screams.
"Elara!" I called.
"On it!" She fired an arrow, but the projectile passed through the specter without effect.
Liriel conjured a containment seal, the ground glowing with golden runes, but the spirit's chains wrapped around the symbol and shattered it.
"This isn't a normal enemy," Celine warned. "It's pure remorse made manifest. You can't defeat it with strength."
"And with what, then?" I asked, dodging an invisible strike that ripped through the air.
"With truth."
The voices began merging into one. The spirit advanced, and suddenly the ground beneath me vanished.
I fell into a void—not physical, but inside the mind.
I saw the same man as before, kneeling in the desert, surrounded by burned bodies.
"Zephyron," I called.
He lifted his face. "You feel the weight, don't you?"
"Yes… but I still don't understand why."
"Because the fire of remembrance doesn't forgive. It records everything—including what you wanted to forget."
His hands trembled. "I didn't want to be a god. I just didn't want to forget the faces of those I lost. But before I knew it, the flame remembered for me—and turned memories into pain."
The chains on his wrists tightened, sparking. "This cave was born from my regret. Here, I screamed for ages. Now, you will listen too."
The world shattered into voices. A thousand fragments of pain, apologies, distorted memories.
For a moment, I thought I would lose my mind.
But then I heard something else—a different voice.
Liriel.
"Takumi! Hear me! This is just an echo, it's not real! Remember who you are!"
I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. "Zephyron… you blame yourself for what you did, but also for trying to do the right thing. The fire isn't your enemy. It's your mirror."
The flame around him dimmed. The chains dissolved.
"Mirror…" he repeated softly. "So there is still someone who understands."
"I'm not anyone special," I replied. "Just someone who also has things they wish they could forget."
He smiled—sad, but sincere. "Then remember this. The flame is not punishment. It is remembrance. And remembering is the price of existing."
The light enveloped me.
I woke up on the cave floor.
Vespera was fanning my face with her hand. "Hey, come back to reality, walking torch."
"I'm back…" I muttered.
Elara knelt beside me. "What happened?"
"The fragment… was freed." I looked toward the center of the circle—the flame had vanished, leaving only a blue stone floating in the air.
Celine picked up the fragment, examining it. "It's pure memory crystal. Zephyron left part of his guilt condensed here. Now he is at peace."
Liriel sighed, exhausted. "Peace is a fragile concept."
"But it's what we have," I replied.
As we left the cave, I noticed the desert sun was gentler. The wind felt less aggressive, as if the place itself had released an ancient burden.
Vespera kicked a crystal on the ground. "This kind of mission should come with a warning: high risk of existential therapy."
I laughed. "Welcome to the usual adventure."
Elara adjusted her backpack. "And where are we going now?"
Celine looked toward the horizon, where the sky was starting to turn reddish. "The next echo is in a place called the Sanctum of Meridia. If the pattern holds… it will be the most dangerous."
"Why?" I asked.
"Because Meridia was where Zephyron tried to extinguish his own flame."
Silence. The wind carried the last words away as if it had heard something it didn't want to keep.
Liriel was the first to break the mood. "So, another journey. And more questions than answers."
"As always," Vespera said, smiling.
We camped on the edge of a dune, under a sky full of stars.
The cold sand rustled in the wind, and the fire crackled lazily.
I lay down, watching the sky. The blue flame inside me pulsed, calm.
I thought of Zephyron—of his guilt, of his choice to remember.
Maybe, in the end, he just wanted someone to understand that pain is also part of what makes us human.
I closed my eyes. The desert whispered like a distant sea.
And for the first time, I did not fear the sound of the voices.