Chapter 11: A Trail of Ashes
The night pressed against Whisperwood like a living thing, its breath cold and damp against Lyra's skin. She and Kael left Elira's house without another word, their thoughts heavy with what they had learned.
Oran had been meant to take the Hollow Saint's place. He had refused. And then, he had vanished.
Lyra clenched her fists as they walked. If Oran didn't die at that altar, then where did he go?
Kael walked beside her, his expression unreadable. "You believe her?"
Lyra exhaled sharply. "I believe she told us what she knew. But that doesn't mean we have the full truth."
Kael gave a humorless chuckle. "We never do."
They reached the inn, but Lyra didn't stop. Her mind buzzed with too many questions, and the idea of sleep felt impossible.
"Where are you going?" Kael asked.
"To find someone who might actually give me answers."
Kael sighed. "Why do I have a feeling I'm not going to like this?"
---
The chapel loomed ahead, its crooked steeple cutting against the moonlit sky. The doors groaned as Lyra pushed them open, the air inside thick with the scent of old wax and damp stone.
The Hollow Saint's altar stood at the front, its carvings deep and jagged, as though something had tried to claw its way free.
Lyra stepped forward, her pulse steady but her hands tense. "I know you're listening," she murmured.
Kael swore under his breath. "Lyra, this is a terrible idea."
"I don't care," she said, raising her voice. "You said Oran betrayed you. You said he abandoned you. So tell me what really happened to him?"
Silence.
Then, the candles on the altar flickered and died.
A voice, low and hollow, slithered through the dark.
You do not seek answers.
You seek absolution.
Lyra's breath caught in her throat. The shadows shifted, coiling like smoke, forming the shape of a figure tall, robed, faceless.
The Hollow Saint.
Oran stood where you stand now, the Saint whispered. He, too, sought to break the chains of fate. And in doing so, he forged his own.
Lyra's fingers curled around the hilt of her dagger. "What does that mean?"
The Saint did not move. Oran did not die that night.
A chill ran through her. "Then where is he?"
Every curse must have a vessel, the Saint murmured. When he refused to take my place, another was chosen. His body was lost... but his soul remains.
The words wrapped around her like chains.
He's still here.
She felt Kael's presence beside her, rigid, waiting. "What do you mean, still here?" he asked.
The Saint turned its hollow gaze to Kael. You already know.
Kael's breath hitched. His stance faltered, just for a second.
Lyra turned to him sharply. "Kael?"
His hands clenched at his sides. "That's not possible."
The Saint's voice was a whisper against the stone. You gave up your past, Kael. But some things do not wish to be forgotten.
Lyra's pulse roared in her ears. "Kael, what is he talking about?"
Kael took a step back, shaking his head. "No. I would remember."
The Hollow Saint's form flickered, shifting, unraveling. Would you?
The shadows rushed forward. Lyra grabbed Kael's wrist and yanked him back as the darkness consumed the chapel.
And in that moment, she saw
A memory.
A man standing before the altar. His face half-shrouded in candlelight. His hands trembling, his eyes full of defiance and grief.
Oran.
No Kael.
The vision shattered.
Lyra gasped as reality snapped back into place.
She turned to Kael, her voice raw. "It's you."
Kael stood frozen, his breath shallow, his eyes wide with something she had never seen before.
"No," he whispered. "That's not"
But it was. She saw it now the familiarity in his stance, the way he moved, the way he had known too much about the curse.
Kael wasn't just part of this.
He was Oran.
Or what was left of him.
The Hollow Saint's voice was soft as a funeral prayer.
You came seeking the past, Lyra.
But the past never left.
The shadows receded. The chapel was silent once more.
Kael staggered back, his face pale, his breath unsteady.
"I don't remember," he rasped. "I don't"
Lyra's heart pounded as she stared at him.
Oran had never disappeared. The curse had just taken him. Stripped his name, his past, his identity.
And now, she didn't know who was standing in front of her.
Kael? Oran?
Or something else entirely?