The wind howled through the Hollowed Peaks.
Snow blew sideways in biting gusts as the Flameborn and his companions ascended into the ancient spine of the world. Above them loomed cragged summits crowned with ice. Below, a thousand feet of jagged ravine threatened to swallow the unsteady.
Althar walked in front, his steps slow but unerring.
Kaelis held the map—her gloved fingers tracing the arcane ink, etched in a script no modern tongue dared pronounce.
Behind them came Seris, then Braeg, and finally Ariya, who watched Kaelis like a hawk might a viper.
They had left Stormbreak Vale under darkness. Word of the Seeker's passage reached them by dawn: entire villages silenced, names scratched out of sky-etched charts by unseen hands. They had no more time.
The only hope lay in the Sanctum of the Unspoken, a temple older than empire, where names could be carved into memory with runes of primordial power.
Only there could they resist being erased.
Only there could they become unforgettable.
By the second day, the storm worsened.
They sheltered in a cave that night, burning dryroot to keep warm. The fire flickered unnaturally low, as if even flame feared the heights they climbed.
Kaelis set the map between them.
"We're close. Another day's climb. The Sanctum lies beneath the Veiled Arch."
Seris looked up sharply. "The Veiled Arch? That's a legend."
"So were the Flameborn," Kaelis replied. "Until he returned."
Althar didn't speak. He was staring at the fire. His eyes narrowed.
"Ariya," he said. "Where's Braeg?"
She looked around.
The cave had only one exit.
The wind outside howled. Snow blew inward.
But Braeg was gone.
They found no tracks.
No sign of a struggle. No dropped gear. No blood. No trail.
As if Braeg had never existed.
But Ariya shook her head furiously.
"I remember him. We all do."
Althar reached into his pack and pulled out their logbook. He flipped to the records of their campaigns—their skirmishes, patrols.
No mention of Braeg.
Seris checked her blades. One was missing—the one Braeg had gifted her during the Crimson Hollow siege.
It was gone.
Not stolen.
Erased.
Kaelis's voice trembled. "The Seeker is near. This is what he does. He doesn't just kill. He unwrites."
Althar stood. "We move. Now."
They left the cave before dawn, hearts heavy.
None of them spoke Braeg's name again.
Not because they'd forgotten it—but because they feared if they did… they might forget the next one, too.
By midday, they found it.
The Veiled Arch.
A stone monolith buried in snow, carved into the shape of two wings—one of frost, one of flame—arched over a black crevice in the mountainside.
Ancient runes pulsed faintly along the arch.
Kaelis stepped forward first. Her voice was steady, but her breath hitched.
"The Unspoken Sanctum lies within. Once we enter, we can carve our names into the Memory Core. It will bind us—not just to each other, but to the world itself."
Seris whispered, "And if we're too late?"
Althar answered, "Then we die nameless. And the world forgets we ever fought."
Without another word, he entered.
One by one, they followed.
Inside, the air was unnaturally still.
The walls were lined with names carved in a thousand scripts—some glowing, some flickering, some already crumbling to dust.
A great pedestal stood at the center. Upon it, a flat stone disk. A chisel lay beside it, made of dream-silver and wyrmbone.
Kaelis stepped forward.
"This is it. Once carved, the name becomes rooted. Not even the Seeker can unmake it."
Althar took the chisel. Without flourish, without hesitation, he carved:
ALTHAR FLAMEBORN.
The rune pulsed. A deep vibration stirred through the chamber, as though the mountain itself now knew his name.
Next came Kaelis. Then Seris.
Ariya hesitated, fingers twitching.
"What if it doesn't work?" she asked.
Kaelis met her eyes. "It already is. We still remember Braeg. That means he lasted longer than most."
Ariya carved her name—ARIYA FLINTSTRIKE—with hands that trembled, but didn't stop.
The stone accepted it.
And for the first time since they began the climb, they felt anchored.
Whole.
Far away, the Seeker stopped.
His head turned sharply.
He had reached the edge of the world he could erase.
The names burned behind his closed eyes.
Unreachable.
He would need to walk the paths of the living now. Step into memory's stronghold.
And so the Seeker began to climb.
Toward the last names that could defy him.