Liara could sleep through the night so much on her mind.
She wants to the field to train but the Vault kept opening.
The world shifted at dusk.
It began with whispers on the wind—low, ancient, and laced with fear. The sky above the academy shimmered unnaturally, clouds parting to reveal a growing scar of silver flame tearing through the firmament.
Liara stood on the western balcony, her breath caught in her throat. The air turned thick, like the moment before lightning struck. Then, the sky cracked open.
A jagged Rift split the clouds in two.
Magic pulsed outward in concentric waves, shaking the stones beneath her feet. Bells rang across the grounds. Students screamed. Shields ignited across the towers—automated protections flaring after centuries of silence.
A piercing shriek tore through the air.
From the heart of the Rift, a shadow descended—a creature twisted in smoke and flickering flame. Its armor looked fused to its flesh, and its mask… a cold, bone-white face with a golden X carved over its eyes.
The Remnant had arrived.
Liara didn't know how she knew that name—but it thundered in her bones, same as the dreams. Same as the nightmares Kael had left behind.
Her pendant burned against her chest. Worse—Syeralyn's mark ignited across her skin, glowing through her robes in silver light.
She collapsed to her knees as the mark pulsed—her vision blurring with images:
Kael, bound in light and shadow.
A broken seal—shattered across time.
Her own face, reflected in a mirror that wasn't hers, whispering a name she hadn't yet remembered.
"Aeron!" she gasped, trying to rise.
Footsteps thundered behind her.
Aeron appeared, sword already unsheathed. "Liara, what's wrong?"
She tried to speak—but the mark pulsed again and she screamed.
From above, the creature shrieked back.
Its golden gaze locked only on her.
It dove.
Cassian arrived in a blink, shield sigil already active. "Move!" he shouted, hurling a wall of force between Liara and the Remnant as it crashed into the stone, shattering part of the balcony.
Flame and wind surged.
Liara coughed through the smoke. "It wants the pendant—no, it wants me."
Aeron turned, furious. "Then it'll go through me first."
The Remnant recovered, rising from the rubble like smoke reforming. Its body flickered in and out of phase with the world—part dream, part curse.
Then it spoke.
Not aloud—but into her mind.
"You are the seal's heir. You carry his grief."
"Give him back."
Liara froze.
The pendant flared.
Syeralyn's mark flared.
And from the Rift above, a second figure stepped forward.
Cloaked in silver light and starlit shadow. Face hidden—but eyes like fire and frost. His presence didn't burn like the Remnant's. It stilled the world.
Liara's knees gave out.
She stared upward, breath caught.
Her soul knew him.
She had seen him. In dreams. In echoes. In every moment her heart ached without knowing why.
She didn't have a name for him.
Not yet.
But something deep within her whispered:
He is the other half.