---
They reached Eidenshade just after twilight.
The city loomed on the edge of a withered forest, cloaked in permanent dusk. Black spires rose like jagged fingers, and the cobbled streets shimmered faintly with phantom mist. No birds. No breeze. Just a silence that pressed against the skin like cold breath.
Kael tightened his cloak. "I thought this place was abandoned."
"It is," Riven murmured, stepping over the cracked threshold. "But something's still here."
> "Eidenshade was cursed long before the war," Veyron said. "Here, memory doesn't fade. It lives."
---
The streets were lined with statues.
Men, women, children—all frozen mid-motion, expressions twisted in joy, sorrow, terror. Some reached skyward, as if begging for salvation. Others clutched their chests or knelt in prayer.
Kael paused beside one.
"I've seen petrification before," he muttered. "But this… this is different."
Riven nodded.
"They weren't turned to stone. They were consumed by their own echoes."
He looked up at the looming cathedral near the city's heart.
"That's where the Seal will be. In the Sanctum of Reflection."
---
The cathedral's doors opened silently at Riven's touch.
Inside, darkness ruled.
Not the absence of light—but the presence of something deeper.
Something waiting.
They moved down a long hallway, flanked by stained-glass windows now shattered and warped. As they passed, faint whispers echoed.
Not words.
Memories.
Riven's memories.
A boy's voice.
"Run, Riven! Get up!"
Kael froze. "Did you hear that?"
Riven nodded, eyes fixed forward. "Don't speak. Just walk."
> "The city's feeding," Veyron warned. "Drawing from you. It knows your shape now."
---
At the cathedral's center lay a round chamber—once an altar, now a shattered void.
The Fourth Seal floated above a broken basin, wrapped in spirals of ink-like mist. Its flame was dim, flickering violet, and around it stood seven black statues… each shaped like a person Riven once knew.
One bore the face of his mother.
Another—his brother.
Kael stepped back. "This place is wrong."
Suddenly—
The air shifted.
The statues began to breathe.
And one by one, they turned to face him.
---
"Riven," said the statue of his mother. "Why did you let me die?"
Riven gripped Ashrend.
"You're not her."
Another stepped forward—Vaelen's likeness, younger now.
"You left me. In the tower. Remember?"
"You're not him either."
The statues began to close in.
Their voices grew louder, layered, overwhelming.
"You failed us!"
"Why didn't you save them?"
"You lived—while we burned!"
> "The Seal guards itself with memory," Veyron said, strained. "You must not believe them."
Riven closed his eyes.
---
He opened them in a different place.
A reflection of the cathedral—clean, golden, whole.
In this illusion, his family was alive. His parents seated at a long table. Vaelen beside him, smiling. Laughter. Light.
"Stay," his father said. "Forget the war. Forget the Seals."
Riven's hands trembled.
But slowly… he reached for his blade.
"I can't."
His mother looked up, sorrowful.
"Why not, Riven?"
He stepped back.
"Because none of you are real."
He slashed the air—cutting through the illusion—
And the echo world shattered.
---
He was back in the altar chamber.
The statues screamed as they cracked and crumbled. The mist recoiled. The Seal's flame flared with color—violet, then crimson, then gold.
Riven stepped forward, sweat beading on his brow.
He pressed his hand to it.
And the Fourth Seal accepted him.
Light surged.
A new mark burned onto his right shoulder—a twisted rose with four thorns.
The whispers stopped.
---
But the city did not forgive.
The cathedral shuddered.
Walls splintered.
The mist thickened—and coalesced into a monstrous form.
Ten feet tall. Dozens of limbs. A body made of screaming faces and shifting glass.
The Echo Wraith.
Kael drew his blade. "What the hell is that?!"
> "A memory that refused to die," Veyron said grimly. "It's a curse made flesh."
---
The creature lunged.
Kael rolled aside, launching a burst of wind-blades that shattered against its hide.
Riven raised Ashrend, channeling flame into a lance of golden fire—Verdict Flame—and hurled it.
The Wraith screamed as it struck—but reformed instantly.
It couldn't be killed by force alone.
"Kael—distract it!"
Riven darted to the altar, reaching into his satchel.
He pulled free the Memory Flame left by Harrek—and ignited it in his palm.
> "Use the echo against itself," Veyron whispered. "Make it remember what it once was."
---
Riven flung the flame into the Wraith's core.
There was a blinding flash.
The creature paused—its limbs writhing—and from within, a human form flickered.
A man. Once a priest. Terrified.
"I remember you…" the Wraith whispered. "I didn't want to forget…"
Riven stepped forward, eyes steady.
"You won't. Rest now."
He plunged Ashrend into the Wraith's heart.
This time—it did not reform.
It wept.
Then shattered into glass.
---
Silence fell.
Kael staggered back, panting. "That… was the worst one yet."
Riven looked at his palm. Four marks now burned along his body.
And the next Seal still called.
But for now… the echoes were quiet.
---
As they left the city, the statues began to crack—free from the curse.
The wind returned.
The dusk lifted.
And the shadows of Eidenshade faded into memory.
---