Chapter 15: The Price of a Name
The world reeled.
The Guardian Spirit's body writhed in the dying embers of Raen's final strike, a grotesque silhouette unraveling into ash and echoes. Lyra slumped beside him, blood crusting her lips, her spell-drained fingers twitching as if still binding phantom chains.
But Raen didn't move.
Not for a long time.
He stood still, blade lowered, eyes unfocused as if staring past the world itself. Not at the crumbled temple. Not at the corpse of a god-bound spirit. But into something deeper—something beneath reality.
The voices were louder now.
Not screams. Not whispers.
Names.
All the names he had taken. All the souls he had devoured. All the truths that once belonged to gods now begging to be remembered.
"Raen?" Lyra's voice came gently, as though afraid she might shatter him with sound. "Are you—?"
"I'm fine." His voice was hoarse. But it wasn't a lie.