The air in the Boundary tasted of time—a dry, layered flavor of aged parchment, crumbling leather, and the hushed breath of centuries. Dust motes, illuminated by shafts of silver light from impossibly high windows, danced like forgotten ghosts in the cathedral-like silence. Rows upon rows of books ...

The silence that followed Nagase’s words was not empty. It was a dense, weighted thing, pressing in on Inariel from all sides. Though they were but soft utterances, Nagase's words of gratitude carried the weight of mountains, settling deep in a soul that had known only the hollow echo of its own ...

And the plot thickens as Nagase entered. Ripples in the unseen became like floods. The collected aura of everyone in attendance—nobles, warriors, and would-be kings—grew trepidatious as only her arrival could accomplish. She wore no finery of the Vesta court, only the dark, practical leathers and ...

The Grand Chamber of Solara felt less like a seat of power and more like a gilded cage full of carrion birds. The air, thick with the scent of old stone, vibrated with the discordant squawking of the assembled crowns. They postured and preened, their voices a cacophony of fear masked as authority ...

The Acrix Solara. The very name seemed etched into his soul, a persistent echo in the vast expanse of his existence. No matter how far Inari journeyed, through realms shimmering with alien suns or the hushed, ethereal planes between worlds, the pull of Solara was an undeniable constant. It was here ...

"Show them to me."

Taking a deep breath, Inariel turned and beckoned. From the treeline, eight figures emerged into the spectral light. They were a collection of broken things, just as she had seen. They were the lost, the damned, the forgotten—and they were his. They knelt as one before the ...

"Your mending is why I have returned," Inariel said, his voice gaining strength. The time for apologies was past; the time for purpose was now. "Introducing my companions to Hellena and her people was but one reason. The other… it concerns the very thing we both fought to escape."

Minratha's gaze ...

“Allen…”

The name, his old name, echoed not in the air, but directly in his mind. It bypassed his ears, his new form, and struck the core of the man he once was. It was a voice of impossible softness, yet it carried the weight of shattered constellations.

"No...you bear his features but your ...

Hellena led the way, her moon-dew staff tapping a soft, rhythmic beat against the mossy stones of the path. The air grew cooler, thick with the scent of night-blooming jasmine and something else, something ancient and clean, like ozone after a storm. The murmur of the Alondra villagers, a sound of ...

"You've returned..."

The crowd of gathered Alondra parted like a sea. The voice that spoke was soft, yet carried a subtle firmness. It was youthful, and while he half expected the Elder One who ran this village, he instead was face to face with Hellena, the girl whom he had saved from the bloody ...