---
The sea had never been kind to prophecy.
Winds howled through the blackened masts, and the horizon trembled with storms that did not belong to this world. Yet the Blood Compass glowed steady in my hand — a pulse of crimson and gold, pointing toward the veil beyond the eastern fog.
Lady Thalindra stood at the prow, her silver cloak snapping like lightning in the gale. Even here, with the storm clawing at her hair, she looked untouched — carved from something older than the sea itself.
Rowen leaned against the rail, shivering beneath his coat. "Remind me," he muttered, "why do all apocalyptic journeys start with us nearly drowning?"
"Because the gods like irony," I replied.
He shot me a look. "You're laughing. That's a bad sign."
"I'm terrified," I said, "but it's either laugh or scream."
Lightning ripped across the clouds. For a heartbeat, the sea turned silver — and in that flash, I saw it. A figure, far out on the water, half-submerged, watching.
Then it vanished.
Thalindra's voice cut through the wind. "Do not look too long into the mist, Archivist. The Hollow Shore hungers for memory."
"What is it?" I called out.
She did not turn. "A place between the living and the remembered. Where the Veil first tore, and where the Vow was written in blood not yet dried."
Rowen groaned. "Fantastic. So we're sailing toward a haunted graveyard."
"Of gods," Thalindra added.
That shut him up.
---
Night fell hard. The sea turned black as obsidian, and the compass pulsed brighter, its heartbeat syncing with mine.
Thalindra had gone silent — meditating, perhaps. Rowen slept restlessly below deck. I remained on watch, tracing the lines of the compass, wondering what awaited us.
That's when I heard it — a faint hum beneath the waves.
Not a song, but a calling.
It was beautiful. Terrible.
And it spoke my name.
> Elaris.
I froze, breath catching.
> You hear me now.
"Lucien?"
The sea stirred violently, waves crashing against the hull. The air shimmered, and for a heartbeat, he stood before me — his spectral form cloaked in shadows and broken light.
He looked pale, fevered, his eyes twin storms of gold and black.
"Elaris," he rasped. "You shouldn't have followed the compass."
"Why? It's leading to you."
"It's leading to my prison."
My pulse faltered. "Then that's where I'm meant to go."
He shook his head. "You don't understand. The Hollow Shore is alive. It remembers every oath, every death. And it wants you."
"Why me?"
Lucien's gaze softened — painfully so. "Because you're the only one who ever swore to remember me."
---
A wave struck, breaking the vision. I stumbled back as salt spray lashed my face.
Thalindra appeared beside me, staff glowing faintly. "He reached you again, didn't he?"
I nodded, trembling. "He's trapped there. The Hollow Shore — it's not just a place."
"It's a scar," she said quietly. "A wound between worlds. And he was the first to bleed."
Lightning flashed again — and this time, in the distance, I saw it: a faint shimmer rising from the sea like a cathedral made of glass and bone. The Hollow Shore.
Thalindra's eyes narrowed. "Anchor the ship. We go by foot from here."
Rowen stumbled onto deck, half-awake. "Foot? On water?"
"On memory," Thalindra said, and stepped overboard.
Her boots struck the waves — and did not sink. The surface glowed beneath her steps, solidifying into pale stone.
Rowen's jaw dropped. "You've got to be kidding."
I smiled faintly. "Welcome to witchcraft, Rowen."
And I followed.
---
The closer we drew, the colder the world became.
The Hollow Shore rose like a half-drowned kingdom — spires of bone-white coral, ruins whispering in a language older than speech. Shadows moved beneath the surface, watching.
The moment my foot touched the shore, the compass stopped beating.
A voice — not Lucien's — echoed from the fog.
> Welcome, Keeper of the Vow.
Rowen gripped my arm. "Tell me you heard that."
I swallowed. "I did."
Thalindra lifted her staff. "Do not answer. Not yet."
Figures began to emerge from the mist — translucent, beautiful, terrible. Faces carved from memory itself.
"The echoes," Thalindra whispered. "Souls bound by unfinished oaths."
One of them stepped forward — a woman in torn priest robes, eyes like molten glass. "You bear his mark," she hissed. "The Heir of the Broken Light."
Her gaze flicked to my collarbone. "And you — the archivist who loved him once."
I froze. "Once?"
"Time forgets, but vows do not."
She raised a hand — and suddenly, the shore trembled. The sea turned to mirror, reflecting a thousand versions of myself, each with a different expression — joy, grief, love, fear.
Rowen cried out, clutching his head. "They're in my mind!"
Thalindra thrust her staff forward, light bursting through the fog. "Enough! Begone, shades of oath and lie!"
The spirits screamed and scattered, retreating into the dark.
Silence returned — but the air still hummed with power.
Thalindra exhaled slowly. "They've awakened the gate."
"What gate?" I asked.
"The one that holds him."
---
[Lucien's POV — Fragmented Dream Realm]
Chains. Light. Fire.
He woke to the sound of the sea roaring inside his mind. The Hollow Shore was close — he could feel her steps above him, each heartbeat echoing through the seal that bound his chest.
Lucien's hands trembled against the chains of light. Each one burned with her name.
> Elaris.
He whispered it like prayer.
A shadow stirred in the dark — tall, robed, faceless. The Veiled One.
> She comes for you.
Lucien glared up, defiant. "You'll never have her."
> You said that once before.
The chains tightened, sinking into his skin.
> You both broke the first vow, Heir of Ash. Now you will pay it again — in blood.
Lucien screamed, light erupting from his body in violent waves. Somewhere far above, the sea began to boil.
---
Back on the surface, thunder cracked. The sea turned red with reflected light.
Thalindra staggered. "He's fighting it."
"Fighting what?" I demanded.
"The seal — the curse — everything that keeps him buried!"
Rowen's eyes widened. "Then what happens if he breaks free?"
Thalindra looked at me gravely. "Then the world will remember what gods tried to forget."
---
The compass blazed crimson again — not a pulse this time, but a flare.
It pointed straight toward the center of the Hollow Shore — where a colossal stone gate stood half-buried in coral and bone.
Carved across it were words written in blood and fire:
> VOWS ARE BLOOD. MEMORY IS GOD.
My breath caught. "That's the seal."
Thalindra nodded. "And you, Elaris De'Ardentis… are the key."