Suspended Dawn
Night had fallen over Vindhor like an inky curtain. Yet the streets did not sleep. Torches flickered in alleyways, and high atop the towers watch-guards murmured ancient litanies to hold back the darkness. For since the events in the Crypt, a whisper of unease drifted through the air—imperceptible, yet unmistakably there.
In the Council Chamber, Kaelen stared at the map spread on the table. Beside him, Maelis traced the uncertain dashed lines that marked the seas southward, where the Crowned Isles lay.
> "If the echoes of the Fragment have reached the under-currents," she said, "then the Silent Tide will soon reveal itself."
Kaelen nodded.
> "We must send someone," he decided. "Someone the archipelago will heed."
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I. The Azurine Emissary
They chose Lys. Clad in lightweight armor reinforced with silk and silver scales, she boarded the Gale of Ancestors—a sky-ship retrofitted for sea voyage. Aurora remained at her side, along with two envoys from Aradhaïa.
Their destination: Lyris, capital of the Crowned Isles, where silence had replaced song. The temple priests of the Foam had shuttered their shrines, and the waters around the harbor lay still, as if the sea itself held its breath. No one came to greet them. The docks were deserted; the moored vessels encrusted with blackened salt. Only a child's curious gaze appeared on a balcony, then vanished.
> "Something here has broken the rhythm," Aurora whispered.
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II. The Call Beneath the Waves
Lys led her party to the Sanctuary of Living Salt, an ancient temple carved into the sea-rock. There stood High Priest Nyros, motionless before a pool of translucent water.
> "The sea dreams in reverse," he said. "We have heard voices in the depths. They were not of the dead—but of bleeding memories."
Lys realized the Fragment of Oblivion had resonated even in the deep sea. Echoes of war, pieces of lost souls, had seeped into the currents. This was the Silent Tide, when the ocean absorbs the world's pain and tries to return it.
Aurora placed an Azurine crystal into the sacred pool. A vision surged: golden-eyed drowned figures; outstretched hands; a shattered throne beneath the waves—and a voice:
> "You did not hear us. The pact was broken."
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III. The Descent
To discover the source, they had to dive. An ancient conduit led to the Obsidian Heart, a marine cavern where currents converge. Lys, Aurora, and Nyros donned alchemical respirators and plunged into the black water.
The depths teemed with uncanny creatures—condensed memories: a mother calling her child; a warrior dying in a laugh; a mage reciting forgotten names. Each apparition dissolved at their approach, too fragile for the living world.
At the bottom, they found the Anchor of Tears: an ancient artifact embedded in rock, around which the Tide condensed.
> "Here the drowned still weep," said Nyros. "Oblivion binds their ghosts."
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IV. The Rite of Deliverance
Lys drove her blade into the Anchor. Aurora sang the purification verses of Aradhaïa. Nyros offered his blood.
The water trembled. Blue light burst from the Azurine crystal. In one final refrain, the trapped memories dispersed, freed at last.
When they broke the surface, the sea had changed. The wind blew again. Lyris's bells tolled. The priests resumed their lost hymns.
The Silent Tide had receded.
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V. The Message
Before she left, an old man handed them a carved stone—an ancient stele long sealed beneath the sanctuary. It read:
> "A kingdom does not fall in a day, but dissolves in every forgotten thing."
Back in Vindhor, Kaelen read the inscription, eyes on the distant sea.
> "Then we shall forget nothing," he declared. "Neither the pains nor the oaths."
The realm moved forward. But now, it also looked back.
To be continued…