"It's always the same," Arashi began, the images still fresh in his mind. "I'm falling through an endless sky. I have... wings, I think. Six of them. But they're burning, turning to ash. I can feel the pain, but also... relief? As if the burning is necessary." He shook his head, fingers unconsciously tracing patterns on the table's surface. "It doesn't make sense."
The Elder sat across from him, his expression unreadable. His hands, spotted with age but still strong, rested flat on the table. "What else? You said they're becoming more vivid."
Arashi closed his eyes, trying to recall the fragments that usually dissolved upon waking. The pressure behind his eyes throbbed in time with his pulse, making concentration difficult.
"There's a voice, sometimes. Speaking words I don't understand, but somehow still know the meaning of. Something about 'the necessary fall' and 'secrets kept even from heaven.'" His fingers continued their restless movement, as if trying to write something his conscious mind couldn't grasp. "And there's music... no, not music exactly. A sort of... harmony? But it's wrong somehow, discordant."
The memory of that sound made his skin prickle with gooseflesh. Unlike the crystalline tones from the Echo Chamber, this harmony in his dreams felt jagged, intrusive, a violation of something sacred.
When he opened his eyes, the Elder was staring at him with an intensity that was almost uncomfortable. The older man's gaze felt weighted, as if he was measuring Arashi against some standard only he knew.
"And how do you feel when you wake?" Takuma asked carefully, the question carrying more weight than its simple words should allow.
"Like I've lost something essential," Arashi admitted, the confession difficult though he couldn't say why. His hands stilled on the table. "As if I've forgotten something crucial to my very existence."
He hesitated before adding, "And lately, there's been this pressure behind my eyes, especially near the Echo Chamber." The admission felt dangerous somehow, crossing a boundary they had tacitly observed for years. "Sometimes I think I see... colors around people. Auras, maybe? They fade when I try to focus on them."
The auras were more than just colors, they were impressions of essence, of character. Elder Takuma's had edges of silver that reminded Arashi of moonlight on water. Kira's was warm amber with flecks of something brighter when she was passionate about a subject. He'd never dared speak of this to anyone, fearing what such perception might mean.
The Elder was silent for a long moment before rising abruptly. The legs of his chair scraped against the floor, harsh in the silence. "Come with me," he said, walking toward his private study with a purposefulness that brooked no argument.
The small room was cluttered with books and artifacts that Takuma had collected over his long life. Unlike the meticulously organized main archive, the study reflected the more chaotic aspects of the Elder's mind, connections that weren't immediately obvious to others. Some items were clearly from Vesper, but others bore the distinctive styles of Lumina and even Umbra. On one wall hung a map showing all three nations, with markings that Arashi had never been allowed to examine closely.
The air in the study was different somehow, heavier, charged with something Arashi couldn't name but could definitely feel. The scent of preservation oils was stronger here, mingled with something else... something that reminded him of lightning strikes and mountain air.
Takuma moved to a heavy chest in the corner, unlocking it with a key he wore around his neck. The chest was made of dark wood bound with silver, its surface carved with symbols that Arashi recognized from his studies, protective wards used by Resonant scholars.
"I've been waiting for the right time to show you this," the Elder said, his voice unusually solemn. The key in his hand caught the lamplight, flashing momentarily with what seemed like its own inner fire. "I believed it would be years yet, but your dreams suggest otherwise."
He placed the wrapped object on the desk between them and carefully folded back the cloth. Inside was a crystalline object about the size of a man's palm, shaped like a teardrop. It appeared to be made of glass or crystal, but as Arashi looked closer, he could see shifting patterns within, like smoke or liquid caught in perpetual motion.
The moment the crystal was revealed, the pressure behind his eyes both intensified and somehow eased, as if something long straining for recognition had finally been acknowledged. The air in the small room seemed to vibrate at a frequency just below hearing.
"What is it?" he asked, resisting a sudden, inexplicable urge to touch it. His fingers hovered inches away, feeling heat radiating from the object like a banked coal.
"It was found with you," Takuma said quietly. "Wrapped in your blankets when you appeared at our gates."
The words landed like physical blows. Arashi stared at the object in shock, feeling as if the floor was tilting beneath him. In all his years of asking about his origins, the Elder had never mentioned this. This tangible connection to his past, to whoever had left him at Meirōmura's gates, had been hidden from him his entire life.
"You told me there was nothing with me," he said, his voice tight with emotions he couldn't fully identify, betrayal, confusion, a strange anticipation. "No clues about where I came from."
"I told you there was nothing to indicate who your parents were," Takuma corrected, his voice level but not unkind. His fingers rested near the crystal but didn't touch it. "This... this tells us something else entirely."
The lamplight caught the crystal's facets, sending fractured reflections across the walls. In those dispersed lights, Arashi thought he saw patterns forming and dissolving, suggestions of symbols, of writing in a script he shouldn't recognize but somehow did.
Before Arashi could demand clarification, the archive's bell rang, the signal that someone needed urgent assistance. The clear, bright tone cut through the tension in the room like a knife. They heard the main door open, followed by hurried footsteps.
"Elder Takuma!" called a voice Arashi recognized as belonging to Shen, one of the village guards. "There's something at the eastern wall!"
Shen's voice carried an edge of controlled panic that set Arashi's nerves on edge. In his seventeen years, he'd never heard that particular tone from one of Meirōmura's guards.
Takuma quickly rewrapped the crystal and locked it away before they both hurried into the main room. The Elder's movements were precise but urgent, his usual deliberate pace abandoned.
Shen stood there, his Resonance-enhanced armor, minimal by Chorister Knight standards but impressive for a village guard, gleaming in the lamplight. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his chest rose and fell rapidly, suggesting he'd run the entire way from the eastern wall. The faint blue glow of active Resonance emanated from the reinforced panels at his shoulders and chest.
"What is it?" demanded Takuma, his voice taking on a quality of command that Arashi had rarely heard. "Hollow Ones?"
Shen nodded grimly, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword, a nervous habit Arashi had noticed during previous alerts. "Just one, but it's... different. Larger than the usual strays. Captain Hiro says it's just standing there, watching. He sent me to fetch you."
The smell of ozone clung to Shen's armor, the distinctive scent of Resonance actively channeled through metal. It made the air feel sharp, almost painful to breathe.
The Elder's expression darkened, lines of worry etching themselves deeper around his eyes. "Very well. Arashi, stay here and continue preparing the festival records."
"But, " Arashi began to protest, frustration rising at being dismissed just when something significant was happening. The crystal, his dreams, and now this, they were connected, he was certain of it.
"Stay," Takuma ordered with unusual force, his eyes flashing with an intensity that momentarily silenced Arashi's objections. "Lock the door behind us."
As the Elder followed Shen out, Arashi caught a final, searching look from the old man, a look that seemed to contain equal parts concern and resignation, as if some long-dreaded event had finally arrived. The soft click of the door closing behind them felt oddly final.
Alone in the suddenly too-quiet archive, Arashi felt the pressure behind his eyes intensify. The world shimmered, and for a brief moment, he thought he saw a faint silver light emanating from his own hands. When he blinked, it was gone, leaving him questioning his perception.
Outside, a distant, inhuman wail echoed against the village walls. The sound was unlike anything Arashi had heard before, neither animal nor human, but containing elements of both, twisted into something that sent a primal shiver down his spine. The Harmonic Convergence was still two days away, but Arashi couldn't shake the feeling that some form of convergence was already beginning, one centered uncomfortably on him.
He looked toward the Elder's study, thinking of the crystal hidden away inside. What had Takuma meant? What did the object tell them about his origins? The questions buzzed in his mind like agitated bees, demanding attention, demanding action.
The wailing came again, louder this time, joined by shouts from the eastern wall. The sound seemed to resonate with something deep within him, calling to a part of himself he hadn't known existed until this moment. Despite the Elder's orders, Arashi moved toward the door. Whatever was happening, whatever that crystal meant, he suddenly knew with bone-deep certainty that his life in the Village of Twilight was about to change forever.
Something was coming for him. Something had always been coming for him.
And deep within, in a place beyond conscious thought, a name whispered through his mind like a half-remembered song: Raziel.