Chapter 845 - 847
Nyra sat with her back against a stone pillar, her eyes fixed on Jude. She looked as though she hadn’t slept, but then again, neither had he. "You’re awake," she said softly, her voice hoarse. Jude nodded, pushing himself to a sitting position. "Barely." Elren emerged from the edge of the cavern, carrying a small flask of water and a crushed pack of rations. He handed them over without a word, then sat heavily beside them. No one spoke for a long time. What could be said after they had faced a gate that fed on the very fabric of reality and memory?
Eventually, Nyra broke the silence. "There’s something strange outside. You need to see it." Jude stood, albeit slowly, and followed her through the winding path out of the crater. The climb took longer than before, and each step felt heavier, not because of fatigue, but because the ground itself no longer sang with the same intensity. The magic, the memory, it had dissipated. At the ridge, Jude stopped and stared.
The sky was wrong.
It wasn’t broken or torn. It wasn’t burning or storming. It was... calm. Clear. But foreign. The stars had shifted. The air had changed. The hills beyond the horizon had softened, as if the land itself had exhaled after holding its breath for centuries. Trees that had been dead for decades now held green leaves. A river that hadn’t flowed since Jude was a child now glittered in the distance, winding like a silver thread through the valley. "It’s not just sealed," he said quietly. "It’s reversed something."
Elren stepped beside him. "Then this is good, right? We won?" Jude didn’t answer. His instincts, honed by years of watching things go wrong, told him that such balance came at a cost. Magic did not fade quietly, and wounds as deep as the one beneath the gate never healed without leaving a scar.
They made their way down into the valley, walking toward the nearest village to seek shelter, maybe food, maybe even information. The journey took them through forgotten roads, places that had once been ruled by warlords or claimed by ghosts. Now, there was peace. Birds sang without hesitation. The wind didn’t whisper threats or secrets. Even the ruins they passed seemed less haunted. But when they reached the village of Oswick, things grew strange again.
People recognized Jude. That wasn’t unusual. What was strange was how they recognized him. "Commander Jude!" a woman cried, running from her home to embrace him. "We thought you were dead. After the war, when the peace treaties were signed, we feared you’d left us." Jude blinked. "What peace treaties?" The woman tilted her head. "The ones after you united the Redharbor Clans and the southern kingdoms. Don’t you remember?" Elren stepped forward quickly. "What year is this?" The woman looked puzzled. "It’s the year of the Silver Crescent. Thirty-seven years after the Eclipse War." Jude felt the weight of her words like a blow. That war had never happened. Not in the world he remembered.