Chapter 1
The first thing he felt was the cold.
It seeped into his bones like water through cracked stone, sharp and unrelenting. When his eyes fluttered open, he saw nothing but a sea of clouds—pale, shifting, and endless. He lay on his back, his body half-buried in soft reeds that whispered secrets in a language he couldn't understand. Above him, the sky was a muted gray, devoid of sun or stars.
Where… am I?
He sat up slowly, his limbs heavy, as if the air itself resisted his movements. The ground beneath him was an island of swaying golden grass, floating adrift in the clouds. Beyond the edges, a colossal structure pierced the horizon—a spire of shimmering light, distant yet demanding. It pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat, and though he had no memory of it, he knew it was calling "him".
You're new, a voice said.
He turned, startled. A woman stood a few paces away, her form translucent and glowing faintly blue. Her face was kind, but her edges blurred like smoke, as if she might dissolve at any moment.
New? he echoed.
His own voice sounded foreign, raspy from disuse.
To the Land of Reeds, she said, gesturing to the expanse around them.
Most of us arrive here confused. You'll get used to the fog… eventually.
She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.
I don't… remember anything,
he said, clutching his chest.
A hollow ache throbbed there, as though something vital had been carved out.
None of us do, she replied softly. Not until we find the shards.
"Shards". The word sparked a flicker of curiosity. Before he could ask, the ground trembled. The reeds around them hissed and bent violently, as if recoiling from an unseen force. The woman's glow dimmed, her eyes widening in fear.
They're here, she whispered. Run. Now.
A low, guttural growl rippled through the air. From the clouds emerged twisted shapes—creatures with jagged limbs and hollow eyes, their bodies warped into grotesque shadows. They lurched forward, drawn to the woman's fading light like moths to a flame.
What are they?! he cried, stumbling backward.
The Void! she shouted, pushing him toward a path in the reeds.
They hunger for Light—yours, mine, anyone's. Go! The village is east! Follow the stone markers!
He ran, the Void's snarls clawing at his back. The reeds sliced his arms, but he barely felt it. Ahead, weathered stones emerged from the mist, etched with symbols that glowed faintly. He followed them, breath ragged, until the clouds parted to reveal a cluster of huts nestled in a valley. Souls milled about, their forms more solid than the woman's, their hues a patchwork of soft blues and golds.
An elderly man hobbled forward, his Divine Armament—a lantern dangling from a staff—casting a warm, protective glow.
Quickly, child! Inside the circle!
The boy staggered into the village center, where a ring of lanterns flared to life, driving the Void back with a searing burst of Light. The creatures shrieked, dissolving into smoke as they retreated into the clouds.
You're safe here, the old man said, placing a hand on his shoulder. The touch felt real, solid.
For now.
What… what was that? the boy gasped.
A reminder, the man replied grimly.
This world is broken.
The Heralds who once protected us are… compromised. Petrified.
Their souls were devoured by the Void.
He gestured to a crumbling statue at the village's edge—a figure frozen in mid-scream, stone vines crawling over its hollow eyes.
We survive by clinging to the Light we have left. And by finding these.
He opened his palm. Floating above it was a shard of crystal, iridescent and humming with a melody the boy somehow recognized.
Memory Shards, the old man said.
They are fragments of who we were. Collect enough, and the path to Eden will open. But beware—the Void grows bolder each day. Even the strongest Light can be extinguished.
The boy stared at the shard, its glow reflecting in his eyes. For the first time, the hollow ache in his chest lessened.
Where do I find them? he asked.
The old man pointed to the horizon, where the Willowing Castle's spires loomed above the clouds.
Start there. But know this—the shards will not just restore your memories. They will change you. Awaken you.
The boy nodded, though he understood little. All he knew was the pull in his chest, toward the distant light, toward answers.
As night fell—a dim, starless twilight—the villagers offered him food and a cloak woven from reed fibers. They spoke of warmth, of shared fires, of stories half-remembered. But when he closed his eyes, he saw only the spire's pulse.
Tomorrow, he vowed silently. Tomorrow, I begin.
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End of Chapter 1