Chapter 307 - A forgotten meadow
Scarlett couldn’t explain how she knew, but Arlene had left a trace — a faint, almost intangible connection that pulled at her like a whispered call. It was startlingly easy to follow, a subtle current weaving through the incorporeal spaces that touched the Hall of Echoes. Using the power borrowed—or stolen—from a fragment of her enemy, Scarlett’s flames tore through the immaterial barriers separating her from her destination. The path yielded, parting as though granting passage.
The first thing she found was fractured remnants of a Memory — the same one she had just left. Above, a section of sky was split open by degrading white rifts, casting an uncanny light over the ancient Zuverian city below. The city lingered in static ruin, its edges frayed and smeared in a dark haze that blurred detail and depth as the Memory crumbled into the encroaching void. It wouldn’t last much longer.
Ahead, embedded in the frost-ridden hillside amidst rubble, lay the remains of the Anomalous One’s manifestation: a twisted, winding mass of mottled grey and white, now shifting as if it were some primitive, mindless creature. Towering above it was Olgolzkreh, the massive dragon’s figure standing tall and triumphant. Its scaled form glinted against the fractured Memory, exuding an almost regal menace.
In front of them both, her back turned to Scarlett, was Arlene.
The woman’s outline blurred into the fading surroundings. She turned slightly, glancing over her shoulder at Scarlett. At the same moment, Scarlett felt the dragon’s gaze pierce through her — a gaze that was powerful and oppressive, radiating an intelligence far beyond the near-savagery it had displayed earlier. Olgolzkreh regarded her as a colossus might regard an insect.
It studied her. Calculating. Threatening. Even as a construct of the Memory, even weakened after its fight, Olgolzkreh was an ancient dragon that could raze cities.
Arlene raised a hand, and the dragon lowered its head to look at her. A silent exchange seemed to pass between them. With a deep, rumbling huff that stirred Scarlett’s hair, Olgolzkreh beat its massive wings and ascended, vanishing into the dissipating edges of the Memory.
As the dragon left, Scarlett shifted her focus to Arlene, who stood watching her in silence. Without a word, Arlene turned, and a fiery rift tore open the air before her as she stepped into it.
Scarlett had no intention of letting her escape, though. As the last remnants of the Memory unravelled, she locked onto that faint connection from before—now knowing for sure it was Arlene—and wrapped herself in flames as she followed.
For a moment, she was engulfed in a dense, viscous darkness, like wading through a heavy mist that thickened with every step. Slowly, the resistance gave way, and her surroundings gradually cleared. A dark, clouded night sky stretched above. Around her, the charred remains of houses rose, jagged silhouettes against the pale moonlight. Smoke curled upward from scattered bodies — bodies she had seen before.
Once again, she was in Freymeadow, where an unnatural silence hung over the ruins.
Her gaze swept over the familiar devastation. The scene laid bare the village’s fate, yet something felt subtly different. It was as though everything was slightly…unfocused, for lack of a better word. Like a memory viewed through frosted glass — just slightly removed.