For a long time, Aerin and Lior stood at the ridge, watching the ruins of Elyndra shimmer faintly under the moonlight. The silence between them felt heavier than words — like the weight of centuries pressing down on two souls who had finally begun to remember.
Aerin couldn't tear her gaze away from the city below. The stone arches, once proud and shining, were now broken silhouettes. The moon painted every shattered column in silver, and yet, in her mind's eye, she could almost see the streets alive again — the laughter of children, the songs drifting from the temples, the flutter of silk banners in the evening wind.
"Was it really like this?" she whispered. "Alive?"
Lior's voice was low. "It was more than alive. It was beautiful. Elyndra was a city built on wishes — each one whispered into the river that ran through its heart. The water carried them to the willow, and from there, to the stars."
Aerin closed her eyes. A faint ache bloomed in her chest. "And I destroyed it."
He shook his head. "You tried to save it. People turned their wishes into greed. They stopped asking for hope and started asking for power. You saw the forest beginning to wither, and you warned them. But they didn't listen."
His words painted pictures in her mind — a council chamber filled with candlelight, her voice trembling as she begged them to stop. A storm rising. Fire. Screams. The scent of ashes.
Aerin pressed a hand to her forehead. "Why can I see it now? Why do I remember only fragments?"
"Because the forest is awakening," Lior said softly. "And so are you."
They began their descent toward the ruins. The path twisted downward through the mist, the trees thinning as stone replaced soil. The silence here felt different — not peaceful, but expectant.
When they reached the outskirts of the city, Aerin stopped. The gates — or what remained of them — loomed ahead, two massive pillars entwined with roots and vines. Strange symbols glowed faintly across the surface, pulsing in time with her heartbeat.
"Do you feel that?" she murmured.
Lior nodded. "The forest's magic never left this place. It sleeps beneath the stones."
Aerin reached out and brushed her fingers across one of the symbols. The vines stirred, curling back as if recognizing her touch. A faint hum filled the air.
The gates began to open.
A rush of wind swept through, carrying whispers — voices, countless voices, layered over one another like a haunting melody.
Lior caught her wrist. "Careful. The city remembers everyone who's ever made a wish here."
"And me?" she asked, voice trembling.
He looked at her, eyes shadowed. "Especially you."
They stepped through.
The streets were lined with fragments of marble and glass, their surfaces still reflecting a faint inner light. At the center of the city stood a massive fountain, dry now, but Aerin could tell that once it had been the heart of everything. Statues surrounded it — winged figures, faces eroded by time. One statue, however, remained nearly intact.
Aerin froze.
It was her.
The statue's eyes were lifted toward the sky, her hand outstretched as if releasing something — perhaps a wish — into the heavens. Around her neck hung the same pendant that now rested against Aerin's skin.
Her knees nearly gave way. "Lior…"
He was beside her instantly, steadying her. She could feel the tension in his grip.
"I don't understand," she whispered. "Why would they build this? Why me?"
"Because you gave them hope," he said quietly. "Even when they didn't deserve it. You carried every wish they made. Every one."
She stared at the statue, unable to look away. The memories came faster now — laughter, songs, a thousand faces she once knew. A promise made under a blood-red sky. And then the sound of crumbling stone, the cries of people as the city fell.
"I failed them," she breathed.
"No," Lior said sharply, his voice breaking the stillness. "You saved them — from themselves. You gave them one last wish: to forget the pain. To start again."
He turned to face her fully, eyes glinting in the pale light. "That's why you forgot too. The forest took your memories in exchange for peace."
Aerin's throat tightened. "And what did it take from you?"
Lior looked away. "Everything else."
She wanted to ask what he meant, but before she could, a low sound rippled through the air — a vibration, deep and rhythmic. The ground trembled slightly beneath their feet. The air thickened, heavy with the scent of old magic.
From the center of the fountain, light began to rise — threads of gold and silver spiraling upward like smoke. The air hummed with energy, and the whispers grew louder, urgent.
"What's happening?" Aerin cried.
"The city's remembering you," Lior shouted over the sound. "It knows the guardian has returned!"
The light reached the statue, enveloping it. For a moment, Aerin saw her reflection overlaying the stone — her face and the statue's merging, flickering like two images trying to become one.
Pain shot through her chest. She stumbled backward, clutching the pendant. "It's burning—"
Lior caught her as she nearly fell. "Don't fight it. Let it show you."
She squeezed her eyes shut. The world disappeared.
She stood once again in Elyndra — but alive, alive as it had been before the fall. The streets glowed with lanterns, music filled the air, and the willow's song drifted through the night. She saw herself — younger, radiant, walking through the crowds as people knelt before her. Their eyes were filled with hope.
And then, at the edge of the square, she saw him.
Lior.
Not as he was now, but as something other — cloaked in white, his wings folded, his expression unreadable. She felt the same pull she did now, the same ache, the same forbidden warmth.
"You cannot love me," he had said then, voice trembling. "If you do, you will lose everything."
And she had smiled through tears, whispering, "Then I will lose everything."
The vision shattered.
Aerin gasped and fell to her knees, the world spinning. The fountain was silent again, the light gone. Lior was there, holding her as she struggled to catch her breath.
Tears streaked her cheeks. "I loved you," she whispered, voice breaking. "Didn't I?"
Lior's expression softened — a mix of sorrow and something like hope. "You still do."
The silence between them was electric, fragile. Aerin could feel her heartbeat echoing in the hollow of her chest, matching his. The stars above seemed closer now, listening.
Finally, she spoke again, barely a whisper. "Then why do I feel like this love is what destroyed everything?"
Lior's gaze dropped. "Because it did."
The words hung in the air, heavy and final — and yet, somehow, she already knew.