When the walls of Alfirk’s silent empire cracked, the first sound to escape was a song — low, mournful, and ancient. It drifted through the violet mists like a pulse, waking the sleeping rivers and stirring the roots of memory buried beneath the soil.
Far beyond the Obsidian Spire, deep in the marshlands where reflection and reality traded places, ruled Queen Errai — the second sister, the Keeper of Echoes. Her throne was not carved of stone but grown from living crystal, its veins carrying whispers from every corner of the realm. The air around her shimmered with the voices of the lost — ancestors, wanderers, and those whose names had been erased from Alfirk’s histories.
Errai heard them all. And in every echo, she found truth that Alfirk had chosen to forget.
Where Alfirk valued stillness, Errai thrived in resonance. She understood that memory was alive — that the past was never gone, only unheard. Yet the ceaseless murmuring of the echoes came with a cost. For each truth revealed, she carried its sorrow. Each whisper of betrayal or regret etched itself into her skin like living script.
When Alfirk’s name crossed her chamber of mirrors, Errai paused. For centuries, her elder sister had sealed their bond, silencing all remembrance of their shared beginning. But the echoes, freed at last, began to weave her memories back together. She saw flashes of a time before the Thrones — three sisters beneath the violet auroras, bound by purpose rather than pride.
Her heart wavered. The echoes urged her to rise — to reclaim the harmony Alfirk had fractured. Yet to do so meant embracing the full chorus of pain and beauty alike.
So Errai summoned her harp of living silver and plucked a single string. The sound rippled across worlds, reshaping the mists, carrying both grief and grace. Her people woke from generations of forgetfulness. The forgotten returned.
But as her music spread, another note joined — darker, colder, commanding.
From the shadowed reaches of the forest, a voice not of memory, but of will.
Segin had awakened.
And unlike her sisters, she remembered everything.