A Symphony of Blades and Broken Stars

The images on the walls flickered, shifting like flames in the wind. Ardyn couldn't look away.

He saw a battlefield. Fire rained from the sky. A black-cloaked figure stood in the center of it all—his own face, older, colder, filled with rage. That version of him raised the same star-forged blade Kaela now carried… and brought it down on a golden throne.

The vision shattered.

Ardyn gasped and stumbled backward. His chest burned where the curse mark pulsed.

"What was that?" he demanded.

The Watcher tilted his head. "A memory. One you chose to forget."

"I never lived that. I would remember it!"

"You didn't live it," the Watcher said. "But you will."

Kaela stepped forward. "He's seeing echoes. The past and future folding together."

Ardyn clenched his fists. "Why me? Why am I at the center of all this?"

The Watcher raised a hand, and the room dimmed. "Because you were the first."

Ardyn stared. "The first what?"

"The first to betray the stars."

Silence fell like a blade.

Kaela spoke quietly. "The gods fell, Ardyn. You helped bring them down. But afterward, your memory was sealed, by force or by choice."

Ardyn shook his head. "That's not possible."

The Watcher walked toward him. For a moment, he stood inches away. When he spoke again, his voice was softer.

"Do you want to remember your name?"

Ardyn's breath caught. "I know my name."

"No," the Watcher whispered. "You only know the name they left you."

He placed a hand on Ardyn's chest.

A white flash blinded him.

Suddenly, Ardyn stood in a snowy field. Alone. Stars burned red above him. A city burned behind him.

And a voice, his own, echoed across the sky:

"I am Elion. The blade that broke the sky."