While suspended in the air, time seemed to slow for Prince Khane. The rush of wind surrounded him, but his mind was elsewhere. A surge of memories flooded his consciousness, like a cascade of light breaking through a shrouded sky.
He saw the palace—the gleaming halls of his childhood. Images of himself as a prince flashed vividly. He saw himself and Eyrin, sitting together, reading and laughing as children. He remembered the panic and chaos when he fled with his family from the rebels, the moment he was separated from them, and the strange kindness of a scholar who had taken him in—Elyon, who he now realized was an immortal.
More fragments emerged. Writing the letter to Eyrin. The events leading to this very moment. And his recent memories, clear as day, now aligning in a way that made sense.
Each recollection hit him with the force of a tide, relentless and unstoppable. "It's all coming back," he thought. "I'm beginning to see everything."
His body finally collided with the surface of the sea below. The cold water swallowed him whole, silencing the noise of the world above. But within his mind, the echoes of his regained memories blazed brighter than ever.
************************************
"I don't feel wet," Prince Khane muttered to himself, his confusion deepening. He recalled falling into the sea, the sensation of water engulfing him—but now, seated on a wooden surface, he was completely dry. The sound of waves and the cries of seabirds filled the air. He focused, taking in the details. He was on a boat, blindfolded, and the rocking motion of the sea confirmed it.
His memories were fully restored—his identity as Prince Khane reestablished alongside the memories of Khailian's life. It was strange, having both lives coexist in his mind. He considered using his powers to break free, but a deep, commanding voice interrupted his thoughts.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the voice said. Its calm authority stopped him in his tracks. "You'll disrupt the flow of the pill. I'm ensuring it reaches every vein in your body."
"Pill..." Prince Khane said quietly, his mind racing. "The last time I heard about such a pill was with Khailian's companion, Arnin. How do you know of it? Who are you?"
The voice chuckled softly. "Khailian's companion? It appears you've regained your memories, Nameless... or should I say, Prince Khane." There was a knowing weight in the words, a deliberate emphasis on his title.
Khane tensed, his senses sharpening. He couldn't recognize the voice, yet there was something deeply unsettling about it, something that scraped at the edges of familiarity. He could sense the man sitting across from him on the small boat.
The dawn light seeped through his blindfold, and though he couldn't see his captor, he could feel his presence.
Khane's thoughts churned. "Who is he? Why is he helping me? There's always a reason—whether good or bad. But how did I get here? It's still unclear."
"Your mind must be restless, Nameless," the man said, almost as if reading his thoughts. "But for now, patience. I wonder... what kind of man you truly are."
Before Khane could respond, his body shifted. The man used his power to turn him, forcing Khane to face away from him. The sensation of control over his own movements being taken unnerved him.
"This man," Khane thought, his mind racing. "We haven't met before. But could it be possible... that he met Khailian?"
The man scoffed lightly, his tone almost mocking. "Among strangers, he guards his voice. Prudent silence—a careful choice."
Khane allowed a faint grin to form, a glimmer of defiance. "Why should I speak?" he said. "I asked you one question—'Who are you?'—and yet you refuse to answer."
"Oh..." The man chuckled softly, his voice deep and smooth, carrying an almost imperceptible amusement. "This one is different," he said, continuing to guide the pill's essence through Nameless's veins with his power.
Nameless frowned slightly, his senses keen even in his restrained state.
"I'm just someone who has a responsibility," the man added.
"Your aura..." Nameless began, his voice calm but probing. "I already know you're not mortal. You could be a demon or an immortal. I don't feel any demonic aura—at least not yet, since I haven't fully regained my essence.
However," he paused, his tone sharpening, "if you're an immortal and just passing by... are you going to help Essed?"
The man placed his hands on his lap, his posture relaxed. He offered no direct response. Instead, he asked, "What is the one thing you want right now?"
Nameless arched a brow beneath his blindfold. "Avoiding the question, I see," he remarked dryly, his voice tinged with subtle annoyance.
The man remained silent, his quiet demeanor radiating an air of unyielding mystery. After what felt like an eternity of stillness, Nameless spoke first, relenting with a faint sigh. "My sword. Wife."
The man chuckled again, this time more openly. "What a peculiar name for a sword. Well, what are you waiting for? Summon it."
Nameless stilled. "Summon it?" The realization hit him—this meant the process was complete. He could finally see who he'd been speaking with. Without hesitation, he began to turn, one hand pulling at the blindfold as he pivoted.
As he removed the cloth, a sudden gust of wind whipped past him, rustling the air with uncanny force. Nameless blinked into the golden light of dawn, scanning his surroundings, but the boat was empty. The man was gone. And yet... he could feel the presence lingering, palpable and undeniable.
Even though the figure was no longer in sight, Nameless knew he wasn't imagining things. It wasn't just the man's voice—it was the unmistakable weight of his presence, heavy like a shadow that refused to fade.
Letting the blindfold fall away completely, Nameless allowed the morning wind to carry it over the waves. He closed his eyes, focusing on the power that now coursed through him. "After retrieving my sword, there will only be one last thing," he murmured, his voice resolute.
He opened his eyes with fierce determination, a fire igniting in his gaze. Launching into the air with grace and power, he stretched his hand skyward. "Wife!" he called aloud, his voice echoing with authority.
Far away, at Bacain, where his sword lay sunken beneath the sea, it began to stir. The water around it churned violently, as though responding to his call. Buried in the seabed, the sword trembled with power before shooting out of the depths. The blade soared into the sky, slicing through the wind with such speed that it became invisible to the naked eye, racing toward Essed like a blazing star.
Nameless hovered in the air, his hand outstretched toward the heavens, his gaze locked on the sky. His sword, still racing toward him from Bacain, faced resistance—a formidable barrier that challenged its passage. The air around it shimmered, pulsating with energy, as the sword strained to break through.
Across Essed, the sky changed. Shades of unnatural light wove through the clouds, casting a mysterious glow over the land. People looked up in confusion, their hearts racing at the unexplainable shift. Some whispered to one another, but none could discern the cause.
Nameless's arm trembled slightly as he channeled more of his power, his essence surging toward the sword. He focused his will, his determination radiating outward. "Come to me," he commanded silently, and the sword quivered in response, its vibrations intensifying.
Then, with a deafening crack, the barrier shattered. A loud, resounding bang echoed through the air, shaking the very earth. The shockwave rippled outward, tearing through the trees. Leaves flew wildly in all directions, branches swayed violently, and the ground itself quaked under the force of the release.
In the parts of essed, people rushed out of their homes, startled and fearful. The powerful wind swept through the streets, carrying with it an air of anticipation and unease. The once-quiet morning was now alive with chaos.
At Laon's manor, Lady Meiyer burst out of her quarters, her breath catching as she gazed upward. Her eyes reflected the sky's brilliance, and for a moment, she simply stood in awe.
Then her lips curled into a radiant smile. "It is done," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the fading winds. She clasped her hands together, her expression triumphant. "It's time," she said, her voice filled with resolve.