They didn't mean to find it.
Elaris was the first to notice the uneven stones beneath her boots.
One tap of her hilt, and a hollow sound echoed below.
"There's something under us," she murmured.
Zeraka was already sniffing the air.
"Rot."
"Old, but… not dead."
Rein helped push the debris aside with Caelia and Elaris.
A half-collapsed staircase emerged beneath the broken altar. The steps were carved, but not by a craftsman.
They were scratched, gouged out one jagged step at a time—like someone had crawled their way into hell.
The air that leaked out was dry.
But it hissed.
Like a tongue tasting them.
"We're not going down there," Caelia said.
Her voice was steady.
Her hand trembled.
"You don't have to," Rein replied.
And then, he descended.
Zeraka followed without hesitation.
Valaithe made a face, sighed, and muttered,
"If this gets erotic and cursed, I'm blaming him."
Elaris went last, blade already drawn.
Caelia stayed behind.
The air thickened with each step.
The further down they walked, the less sound followed them.
Not just voices—heartbeat, breath, even memory seemed to fade in the carved darkness.
Then the stairwell opened.
A vast, low chamber—ceiling barely above their heads. The walls were covered in symbols carved so deep they seemed to bleed.
At the center, a raised slab of obsidian.
An altar.
And on the altar—
A name.
Zeraka spoke first.
But softly.
"That's yours?"
Rein nodded slowly.
It wasn't in any language he could read.
And yet, he knew.
Because the moment he stepped near, the carved lines warmed.
Not with heat.
But with…
recognition.
"It's been waiting," Valaithe said, licking her lips.
"For what?"
"Not what," she whispered.
"Who."
Rein reached out.
His fingertips brushed the name.
The stone vibrated—once.
Like a bell, struck in reverse.
Suddenly—
The walls whispered.
Not words.
Not screams.
Just… his voice.
Dozens of them.
Laughing.
Crying.
Whispering things he'd never said in languages he'd never learned.
Each echo layered with longing.
And blood.
Caelia appeared at the top of the stairwell.
Eyes wide.
"Rein," she said.
"Step back."
He turned.
"It's fine."
"It's not doing anything."
"You don't understand!"
"That altar—it's not for offerings."
"It's for welcomes."
They all turned.
She stood frozen at the edge of the stair.
"This isn't your name."
"It's your return."
Rein looked down again.
The name pulsed once more.
And then—
Another word began carving itself into the slab.
Letter by letter.
Not with a chisel.
Not with magic.
Just stone obeying memory.
It was writing another name.
Zeraka stepped forward.
"Who the hell is that?"
Elaris frowned.
"It looks like... Caelia."
The name finished.
And blood leaked from the letters.
Slow.
Patient.
Inevitable.
Rein turned around.
But Caelia was gone.
.
.
.
She was alone when he found her.
Kneeling before a broken statue, half-swallowed by blight vines.
It had once been a holy figure—tall, armored, wings spread in judgment—but time and war had shattered its face. Moss filled its eyes. The sword it once raised now pointed at the ground.
As if it had surrendered.
Caelia sat at its feet.
Armor stripped to the waist.
Hair undone.
She looked… young.Not a knight.Not a warrior.
Just a girl in front of a god who stopped watching.
She didn't turn when he stepped near.
"I was born in a temple like this," she said quietly.
"Not this one. But close enough to hear the screams when it burned."
Rein didn't speak.
He sat instead—beside her, not too close. Just close enough for her to know she wasn't alone.
"They taught us your name before we could walk."
"Not 'Rein.' The other one."
"The one they swore never to speak aloud."
She drew her knees up, wrapped her arms around them.
"We trained to kill you before you remembered who you were."
"Before the Demon Lords found you."
"Before you smiled."
"Before anyone could love you."
Rein swallowed.
"Then why didn't you try?"
Caelia laughed once.
Dry. Broken.
"I did."
She looked at him now—eyes sharp and wet.
"That night by the fire. I told you I was sent to bind you."
"You said you could guess what that meant."
"And I said you couldn't."
Rein frowned. Slowly remembering.
"You already knew."
"Back then."
Caelia nodded once.
Tears on her cheeks now, unhidden.
"I didn't want to believe it."
"And now?"
"Now I do."
She looked down at her hands, scarred from training, trembling from choice.
Then slowly, she reached for her sword.
Paused.
Let it fall from her grip.
"I'm tired of protecting lies."
She turned to face him fully now.
"So I'll protect you instead."
The air behind them shifted.
Zeraka watched from the ruin edge, silent and still.
Valaithe sat upside down on a branch, smiling faintly like a fox smelling smoke.
Elaris leaned against a stone archway, hand on her blade.
No one moved.
Not yet.
Caelia sank to her knees.
Not as a knight.
Not as a killer.
But as someone who had nothing left but her decision.
Rein stared at her.
Then moved beside her.
He didn't touch her.
Not at first.
He just sat close enough for her to lean against him.
And she did.
And she cried.
And he let her.
No one said a word.
But something sacred broke in the silence.
And something far worse bloomed in its place, just beneath the earth.