Chapter 5: Traces of Blood and Memory

The wind in the Echo Valley carried the scent of iron and ash. In the distance, the sky cracked with flashes of purple lightning striking ancient towers—reminders that something beyond mere power was awakening.
In her private chamber, Kalea, the Queen of Sorrow, sat by the window overlooking the Silent Lake. The glow of floating crystals cast her silhouette across the stone floor. Her gaze was vacant—not from weariness, but from the weight of too many memories swirling in her mind.
"He's back," she whispered. "And I am not ready... to see my past take form."

---
Meanwhile, far from the Nyxterra palace, in the outskirts of Fal Virein, a squad of Veilguard soldiers scouted the ruins of an ancient city. They searched for something—not a weapon, not magic, but traces of Kalea’s past.
"According to Elsera's reports, this used to be a soul containment site," said one of them.
"Why does the Queen want us here?"
"Because before she was Queen, she was a prisoner."
Within the ruins, they discovered a wall inscribed with ancient magical runes—a circle that once imprisoned hundreds of souls in crystal form. At the center, a massive crystal stood cracked, still echoing with the screams of a young girl.

---
Kalea awoke on the seventh night after her meeting with Eiran. Gasping, sweat beading her forehead.
The dream had returned again.
School corridors. Laughter. Shame. Pain.
And Eiran—standing at the end, watching in silence.
She clutched her chest. Her heart, long dead to humanity, now pulsed with weight.
"Am I... still alive?"

---
The next morning, she summoned Elsera. The priestess studied her Queen with worry.
"Is there something troubling you, Your Majesty?"
Kalea hesitated. "Can a soul split in two?"
Elsera took a deep breath.
"In the oldest theories of soulcraft, yes. A soul experiencing great trauma can fracture—one half living in the present, the other trapped in the past."
Kalea laughed bitterly. "Then what stands here... is the half that wants vengeance."

---
In Solvane, Eiran received reports from royal scouts. A remote village had endured a cursed night: livestock frozen, water turned black, and babies crying in their sleep.
"That’s her passing sign," Eiran said.
"Her... Kalea?"
He nodded. "No one moves through the world like her. Even shadows fear her."
He gazed north—toward the border of Nyxterra.
"And I will meet her again. Not as a knight. But as Eiran."

---
At the dark palace council hall, Kalea assembled her commanders.
"The upper world is stirring," she said. "They will try to erase me like the past they resent."
Vorthas rose. "We are ready to crush them, Your Majesty."
Kalea shook her head. "Not all deserve destruction. Some... must be left alive to witness."
"Witness what?"
"The final smile."

---
That evening, Kalea wandered into the archives. She reopened records about herself—ancient scrolls even she didn’t remember authorizing.
"Angeline Ceuu," she whispered the name.
Her hands trembled.
Among the pages, she found something unexpected: a letter from Elsera, dated three years ago.
Letter Excerpt:
"Your Majesty,
If you are reading this, you’ve crossed a threshold even the dead fear. I write this not as a priestess, but as a fellow woman once broken.
You may burn the world. But don’t burn the part of you still capable of love.
Because love... might be your sharpest blade."
Kalea dropped the letter.
Her tears fell in silence.

---
That same night, Eiran prepared for a journey to the neutral lands. He carried one item: a deep blue ribbon once left on a classroom chair—Angeline’s.
He never returned it.
Now, he wished to give it back.
Not to restore the past.
But to remind her that a fragment of Angeline... might still live.

---
Late at night, Kalea stood on her balcony. One star fell across the sky.
She closed her eyes.
"If I were given a third life... what would I choose?"
Deep within her, a small girl’s voice answered.
"To love... without fear."