CHAPTER TWO – THE SCAR BENEATH THE CLIFF
They didn't make it ten steps past the arch before someone spoke.
The voice was sharp. Young. Loud enough to echo off the pillars.
Not from ahead—from behind.
"You shouldn't be here."
Zephryn didn't stop walking.
Kaelen did.
He turned. Slow. Controlled.
Zephryn stopped a beat after.
Yolti exhaled without looking.
Selka turned her head—just slightly.
Riko.
His voice hadn't changed. But his stance had.
He leaned against the second archway, arms crossed,
flanked by two boys Zephryn didn't know.
He wasn't smiling. He wasn't angry.
He just looked certain.
"You think you can disappear, come back, and walk these halls like nothing happened?"
No one answered.
"You weren't chosen. You weren't welcomed. You weren't even here."
He stepped forward now, boots splashing in a shallow puddle left by the rain.
"You shouldn't be back. You should've stayed dead."
Kaelen moved first.
Just a step.
Selka reached out without looking and touched his wrist.
That was enough.
Yolti raised her head. Her voice was low.
"You're not the gate, Riko. You don't get to decide who walks through."
He laughed once—just air. No humor.
"You're defending a ghost. One who burned everything that kept him safe."
His eyes were on Zephryn now.
"Ask him where he was when Solara died. Ask him who let her burn."
That stopped the air.
Even the hum dropped into stillness.
Zephryn didn't speak.
But he stepped forward.
Slow.
Controlled.
And Riko took a step back.
Just one.
Not fear.
Just… instinct.
Zephryn's voice didn't rise.
It didn't need to.
"If you say her name again like that…
I'll make sure the last thing you hear is the truth she died for."
The silence after that wasn't empty.
It was held.
Taut. Sharp. Waiting.