CHAPTER THREE: THE GATES BETWEEN NAMES (Part four)
Zephryn didn't flinch.
Not at the date.
Not at the gaze of the king.
But something behind his eyes had shifted.
A weight. A stir.
A knowing.
The pendant in his palm pulsed once.
Kaelen took a step closer—unconsciously.
He didn't mean to reach out, but his fingers curled just slightly.
That key in Zephryn's hand… he'd seen it too.
Not exactly. But in a memory.
A memory written in someone else's handwriting.
Thaelen's.
He remembered sitting in his father's study years ago, forbidden to touch anything, yet always touching everything.
He'd found a page once. Folded strange. Pressed into the back of a book no one read.
The drawing of a key with teeth like fractals.
A note beside it:
"The child will find the lock. That is his truth."
Kaelen's jaw tightened.
He didn't say a word.
Timishu stepped back. Still hadn't blinked.
Selka hadn't moved.
But she was no longer watching Zephryn.
Her gaze was on the pendant.
Her breath had slowed.
She'd seen that shape before.
But not in dreams. Not in visions.
In her mother's hand.
The last time she saw her cry.
"Is there anything you wish to say?" Vaelen asked. Not cold. Not distant. Just… final.
Zephryn looked at him.
At Timishu.
At the vast stained glass behind the throne—shifting colors across the stone like echoes of lives never lived.
"No," he said softly.
Then— "Not yet."
Vaelen smiled again. Sadder this time.
"Then go."
They turned.
No one bowed.
The doors didn't open again.
They peeled.
Like light folding back over memory.
They stepped into the hall as one.
Yolti finally exhaled. "Okay. So that wasn't weird at all."
Kaelen didn't answer.
Selka didn't laugh.
Zephryn walked ahead, silent.
But in his pocket, the pendant pulsed again.
And in a room now empty, King Vaelen sat still—hands clasped, eyes distant.
Timishu leaned in.
"Should I report it to the Choir?"
The king's reply was almost inaudible.
"Not yet. Let them remember on their own."