Night fell like a curtain of ink over the Shattered Plains. The group traveled beneath a sky embroidered with stars, guided by the strange compass the Veiled Archive had conjured. It didn't point north, or anywhere physical—only toward memory.
Kael poked the shimmering needle again. "So it's just… nostalgia magic? What if it takes us to someone's first heartbreak?"
"I already live there," Roen muttered.
Aeren held the compass steady. "It's not guiding us to a place. It's guiding us to when."
That earned him a slow blink from Kael. "I am so not sober enough for time travel."
---
The plains shimmered.
One moment they stood on cracked earth and moonlight. The next, they were standing in a city made of flame and music.
Elira gasped. "This is… this can't be."
"The Echoed Flame," Roen whispered.
They had passed through the veil of time. Around them danced ghostly figures—citizens of an ancient city that once stood proud. None noticed the group.
Kael waved a hand through one. "They're echoes. Replays. How do we find what we need?"
"We find him," Aeren said.
He pointed toward a figure standing at the heart of the city. A robed man with a crown of cinders. His face was familiar