The sky above the Drowned Valley was clear, yet heavy with unsung omens.
After the Cathedral released them, Jun Mo Xie and his companions continued northward, toward the Whispering Cliffs—where it was said the wind carried voices of forgotten Sovereigns. The landscape changed with unnatural speed. Marsh faded into cracked stone, trees twisted into spirals, and shadows moved against the sun.
Yue Ling kept her spear drawn, her eyes scanning every shifting ridge. "It feels like we walked into someone's thoughts."
Fei Yan agreed, her voice low. "Someone's dream... or their nightmare."
Lan Xue walked beside Jun Mo Xie, clutching an orb of frost pulsing in rhythm with the Ember in his chest. "The deeper we go, the more these energies echo each other. Fire. Ice. Memory."
Elder Shao paused to examine a ruined pillar carved with names that shifted when viewed too long. "This path wasn't made by mortals."
As they pressed forward, the wind howled like mourning wolves. A strange pressure wrapped around them—subtle at first, like a forgotten smell or sound. Then, clear and precise: a voice.
**"Do not go further."**
They stopped.
Before them stood a boy. Barefoot. Hair white as salt. Skin inked with moving glyphs.
Jun stepped forward cautiously. "Who are you?"
The boy blinked slowly. "I am a stitch in the Song. A thread that remembers."
Mei Yun stepped beside him. "A guardian?"
The boy shook his head. "A warning."
The cliffs behind him shimmered. From their base rose monoliths carved with thousands of eyes. The whispers began—some sorrowful, others angry. All knowing.
The boy raised his hand. "If you cross this point, the Song will no longer protect you. Nor will the Sovereign of Echoes."
Jun Mo Xie hesitated. Then asked, "And what lies beyond?"
The boy looked up. "One who does not remember... yet knows everything. A Sovereign exiled not by time, but by choice."
Fei Yan cursed softly. "Another one?"
Elder Shao's face darkened. "The one who betrayed the Choir."
Lan Xue turned to Jun. "What's the plan?"
Jun's voice was firm. "We go forward. Truth doesn't wait for safety."
The boy stepped aside. "Then you must each offer a memory to the cliffs. Only then will they part."
---
One by one, they approached the monoliths.
Yue Ling placed her palm on the stone. A vision burst forth: her first duel, bloodied and terrified. She bowed.
Fei Yan whispered the name she'd abandoned. The cliff absorbed it, and her breath caught in her throat.
Lan Xue pressed her hand and remembered a winter night, alone and frozen. Tears slid down her cheek.
Mei Yun placed her blade against the stone. It sparked, and with it, a storm she had once unleashed.
Jun Mo Xie hesitated. Then touched the cliff.
A vision overtook him—one not from his past, but his future. Fire devouring a city. His own voice shouting words he did not yet know.
He pulled away, trembling.
The cliffs parted.
---
They entered a chasm carved by sound—walls humming, floor alive with light. At the far end, a gate shaped like a mouth.
And from the gate, laughter.
Not mocking.
Expectant.
But the sound behind the laughter... was breathing.
Not air, but a rhythm. A pulse.
"Something sleeps beyond that gate," Lan Xue whispered, her voice barely audible. "And it dreams of us."
Elder Shao traced the lines along the gate. "This is Sovereign script, but fragmented. Like a song with missing notes."
Fei Yan moved to stand beside Jun Mo Xie. "If we enter, we might not leave unchanged."
Jun nodded. "We've already changed. Now we must see why."
He stepped forward—and the gate blinked.
It *opened*, not with creaking stone or groaning hinges, but with a soundless sweep, like pages turning in a book no one remembered writing.
Inside was not a chamber, but a mirrored void. Their reflections moved out of sync—delayed, accelerated, fragmented.
Then, one spoke.
Not Jun's reflection.
But **his own voice**.
**"You are late."**
They froze.
A shape began to emerge from the void—tall, radiant, layered in forgotten symbols and shifting colors. A face that was all of theirs and none.
The Exiled Sovereign.
Its presence was suffocating—not malevolent, but overwhelming.
"Welcome," it said. "I have waited for the fire-bearer. For the frost-keeper. For the lost name. For the broken wind."
The group exchanged stunned glances.
"You know us?" Mei Yun asked.
"I *am* you," the Sovereign replied, "in one of many timelines. In one of many failures."
Jun Mo Xie's fists clenched. "Then why summon us?"
The Sovereign raised a hand. "Because I no longer wish to remember alone."
"Then what do you want from us?" Yue Ling asked, stepping forward. Her voice held steel.
The Exiled Sovereign lowered its head. "To listen. To learn whether I was wrong to leave the Choir. Or if you might one day do the same."
Lan Xue's breath caught. "You think we'll become Sovereigns?"
"No," it answered. "I *know* one of you already has."
The mirrored space shivered.
Jun Mo Xie looked around. "Who?"
The Sovereign's voice dropped. "That is for *you* to remember."
Then the mirrors cracked—not violently, but delicately, like ice touched by warmth.
And in their place stood paths.
Five of them. Each glowing with a different light: blue, gold, red, silver, and green.
"Each path leads to a truth," the Sovereign whispered. "Choose carefully. For not all truths survive being known."
Jun looked to his companions. Each nodded in silent agreement.
And then, one by one, they stepped into the unknown.
---
*To be continued...*