Althar dreamed of fire.
Not the roaring inferno of war, nor the smoldering hearth of home. This fire burned cold—white, unfeeling, and eternal. It licked the air in perfect silence, reducing not wood or flesh but memory itself to ash.
And in the center of that cold flame stood her.
The Empress of the Hollow Veil.
No crown adorned her head. No blade hung at her hip. She wore only robes of silk so dark they devoured light, and her eyes were twin voids where reflection fled. Yet her voice, when it came, was the most beautiful thing Althar had ever heard.
Because it sounded like every woman he had ever known, ever trusted, ever feared.
Even Kaelis.
"King of the Lost Flame," she said, stepping barefoot across the mirrored surface of the dream. "You have entered my domain. You have torn holes in what was meant to be seamless. And so now I come to offer you a gift."
Althar did not speak.
In dreams, truth required silence.
The Empress circled him, fingers trailing smoke.
"You were once a king without emotion. A god of steel and decision. And yet now, you bleed for names. For faces. You have fallen far."
He clenched his jaw. "I have risen. I feel because I chose to."
She smiled, amused. "No. You feel because we allowed you to."
The dream shimmered. Around them rose visions—Kaelis's smile, Seris's laughter, Ariya's stubborn defiance. All of it suspended in crystal.
One by one, they cracked.
"You think this makes you stronger," the Empress said. "But love fractures the soul. Loyalty breeds hesitation. Grief rots the will. I offer you freedom."
She extended her hand.
In her palm floated a single white flame, no larger than a candle's flicker.
"This fire will burn away all you've gained. It will restore you to your true self. The Heartless King. Unburdened. Unshakable. Eternal."
Althar stared at the flame.
He could feel it.
Peace. Clarity. The end of pain.
No more nightmares. No more hesitation before a kill. No more weight in every choice.
No more fear of losing those he now loved.
But also… no more Kaelis.
No more Seris.
No more meaning.
He closed his hand around the flame.
The Empress's smile widened. "Yes. You understand—"
And then he crushed it.
The flame screamed, twisting between his fingers before vanishing into smoke.
"No," Althar said, voice hard and full. "I remember every life I ended. Every moment I walked alone. I remember the man I was. And I choose never to be him again."
The Empress's eyes darkened, her face unraveling into thousands of others—men, women, children—all with empty gazes.
"You will regret this," they said in unison.
Althar stepped forward, eyes blazing.
"I would rather die with a broken heart than live forever with an empty one."
The dream began to fracture, shards of false light raining down.
The Empress hissed, pulling herself into a shape of claws and smoke.
"You think you are more than us? You think you can defy forgetfulness?"
"I already have," Althar whispered.
And then he remembered.
Kaelis's laugh.
Seris's first insult.
Ariya's awkward trust.
And the name he had buried in the deepest part of himself.
His true name.
The dream exploded.
He awoke in his chambers, drenched in sweat.
Kaelis was there, sitting beside him, eyes wide with concern.
"Another dream?"
He nodded. "She offered me power. If I gave up… you."
Kaelis frowned. "And what did you say?"
He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers.
"I said no."
She smiled softly, brushing a lock of hair from his face.
"Good."
Far away, in a citadel with no doors and no sky, the Empress of the Hollow Veil sat upon a throne of names.
And for the first time in an age, she scowled.
Because a king who remembered—who loved—was dangerous.
And now, she knew:
Althar would not be forgotten.
He would make the world remember.
Even if it had to burn.