Raizen had killed a monster today.
But it wasn't the first time.
In the wake of his victory over Varnax, the Emberfang sailed onward — the echoes of cannon fire still vibrating in the deck, the scent of blood mingling with the salt air. But Raizen's mind was not on the crew, nor on the spoils of war.
His thoughts lingered, as they often did now, on Noctis.
The island of ash, where his brother had fallen.
The battle had been won — but the war within Raizen had just begun.
Noctis – The Ruins
Raizen stood alone on the precipice of what once had been the heart of Noctis. The city, destroyed and forgotten, lay beneath a heavy blanket of darkened skies. The remnants of broken buildings and fallen statues scattered across the ash-filled landscape. His feet sunk into the gray earth.
"Raizen…" a voice whispered — faint, fragile.
He froze.
It was impossible. His brother had died. The sword, the blood, the cruel grin of the crimson-clad warlord who had raised his blade over Raizen's life — all of it had been real.
But still... the voice called again.
He stepped forward, guided only by the pull of that familiar voice.
A Forgotten Grave
Beneath the ruined church at the center of Noctis, Raizen found it. A grave.
But this was no ordinary grave.
The stone was cracked, the markings worn by time, but the shape — the name etched on it — was unmistakable.
"Raizen D. Crow – Born 3/2/1999 – Died in the Battle of Noctis."
Raizen's heart stopped.
This wasn't just a memorial. This was his own grave.
But how?
The Truth Unburied
A cold wind swept through the tomb, rattling the remnants of long-forgotten candles. Raizen kneeled beside the stone and dug his hands into the earth, driven by a growing, inexplicable need to understand what had happened.
His hands hit something hard.
With a grunt, he pulled it out.
A chest. Small, intricately carved, and marked with strange symbols.
Opening it, Raizen found a single, folded letter — yellowed with age. His hands trembled as he read it aloud:
"Raizen, my son.
I've watched you grow, and I have seen the flame inside you. But you must know this truth — Noctis was never meant to be your grave. The warlords that came to destroy us, they weren't just men. They were pawns. Our real enemy was always the Crown of Shadows.
The one who stands behind them, pulling the strings. Your power... was not a birthright. It was a choice."
Raizen's blood turned to ice.
The words spoke of a hidden force that he had never known. And the Crown of Shadows? He had heard rumors, whispers in the corners of taverns — but they were always dismissed as myths, stories told to scare children.
Was this the truth?
Had his brother known this all along? And was he the one who had kept this secret buried, even at the cost of his own life?
Raizen closed his eyes. He had always thought that Noctis had been the end of his story. That it was where everything had broken.
But now he knew: Noctis wasn't the beginning of the end.
It had been the beginning of the game.
A Silent Promise
"Brother…"
Raizen stood, the weight of the chest in his hands. "I will find them. I will make them pay."
The wind howled as if answering, but no one stood beside him.
The Return of the Past
Two days later, the Emberfang sailed into new waters. The crew was recovering, but Raizen was distant — his thoughts, tangled in the web of his past. His mind raced with the implications of the letter, and the realization that Noctis had been more than just an island. It had been a warning.
The warlords, the World Government, even his own crew — they were all pieces in a game far larger than he'd ever imagined.
But something else stirred inside him. A question. A hunger.
If the Crown of Shadows had orchestrated the destruction of Noctis, then they had taken something far more precious than his brother's life.
They had taken his purpose.
And Raizen would make sure they paid for it.
The Shadows Stir
At the same time, somewhere far from the wreckage of Noctis, a figure stood beneath the flickering light of a solitary lantern. His robes flowed like smoke in the wind.
A smile curled at the edge of his lips.
"The Nightborne grows strong," he whispered. "Soon, Raizen D. Crow will be more than just a boy with ambition. He will be a weapon."
He lowered his hood, revealing a face obscured by a jagged scar.
And in his hand, a black coin gleamed in the light.
End of Chapter 15: Echoes of the Grave