Each syllable was a spark of silver fire that scorched the ground where it landed, and the names fell like dying stars.
The voices of the twelve true Dawnheirs rose from the ruins as the thirteenth star's light cracked and its emerald radiance faded.
From "Lior of the First Dawn"
On the Sundered Veil, Veyra.
"Kael of the Broken Sigil."
Every name was like a physical blow to Dain, removing layers of his stolen starlight to expose the hollow underneath, a man-shaped emptiness where his heart should be, with a screaming mouth.
…..
Her body resisted her as she crawled through the confusion.
There was no wound, only a mark of a twelve-pointed star carved in black and gold where the vortex in her chest had collapsed inward.
Dain ignored her as his form unraveled.
"You were supposed to be the vessel," he hissed. "Not the key."
Mara spat blood at his feet.
"You should've read the finer print."
…..
The names burned in his mind.
Each one brought back a piece of childhood that had been stolen, with lessons in celestial tongues, laughter in sunny courtyards, and tiny hands transforming dawnlight into crowns.
And then... the betrayal.
With the black cup in his hand, Dain's face hung over him.
Ethan's hands remain clenched, half empty, half filled with starlight.
"You took my name," he whispered.
Dain flinched.
Ethan struck.
…..
The twelfth name fell..
"Eris of the Last Light."
and the fake star broke apart.
Twelve brilliant figures, their faces ablaze with righteous rage, descend upon broken wings, not into fragments but into shapes.
The true Dawnheirs had returned.
And they had all of their memories.
…..
As the Dawnheirs walked around him, the hollow man laughed.
"If you kill me, the cup will change! The cycle starts all over again!
With a fall of living dawn in her hair, the real Eris stepped forward.
"We know."
She inserted her hand into Dain's chest and tugged.
It was the black cup memory, not his heart.
…..
The battlefield was rocked by the vision.
The first corruption hadn't been the Thirsty King's doing.
It had been Dain's.
The "cup" was never a vessel; it was a prison.
As the last piece clicked, Ethan gasped.
The Thirsty King wasn't the enemy.
He was the first prisoner.
…..
The Ravenscroft dagger melted in his wound, causing blood to bubble on his lips.
Not into thin air.
But into the light.
All the Ravenscrofts who had ever perished to control the cup's power were now whispering together as generations of stolen memories poured forth.
"The line must hold."
"The seal must last."
"The true feast is forgiveness."
He looked across the field at Mara.
His voice was raspy, "It was never about sacrifice." "It was about remembering."
…..
Eris knelt next to Ethan and held his scarred face in her hands.
"Little light," she murmured. "You have endured enough of our sins."
As they joined her, the other Dawnheirs each put a hand into his body,
and push the emptiness out.
Keeping it in place.
Healing it.
…..
A new figure appeared from the gathered shadows at Dain's feet.
It was a man of living darkness, with features softened in sorrow rather than stretched in hunger.
The true Thirsty King.
"I took too much to drink," he muttered. "And turned into the monster that they needed."
Eris gave him one tear of silver.
"Now you drink this."
…..
Twelve Dawnheirs and one redeemed King joined hands around Mara, and her new mark shone.
The world changed.
Not ending.
Starting over.
When the light faded, only three remained.
With only a single silver thread around his wrist, Ethan became a human, whole, and scar-free.
Jarek, who survived despite all odds, now has a harmless tattoo on his palm from the dagger's hilt.
And Mara, holding a plain clay cup of clear water in her hand despite having a scar-free chest.
…..
Twelve stars glowed brightly far above.
The thirteenth winked out…
not in death, but in peace.