The path twisted through the trees like a memory not yet ready to be remembered.

Zephryn walked in silence, flanked by Kaelen and Yolti. Tolan led from the front. The guards were quieter now, more reverent. No one asked questions. Not yet.

As the trees parted, the pulse in the air shifted.

And then—they saw it.

Celestis Veil.

Still hidden behind the shimmering barrier, the kingdom shimmered like a song trapped in a snowglobe. Lanterns floated gently in the air. Tall white towers curved with living pulsewood. Bridges crossed crystal streams like silver ribbons. The Heartbloom Tree glowed faintly at the center—its petals drifting even though there was no wind.

Yolti let out a breath. “It’s still beautiful.”

Kaelen said nothing. He watched Zephryn’s face.

And Zephryn?

He stared at it like it had haunted his dreams for years.

“Step through,” Tolan said, nodding to the pulse barrier. “It’ll recognize your frequency.”

Zephryn hesitated—just a second—then placed his hand on the edge.

The barrier rippled.

It remembered him.

He stepped through.

Yolti followed. Then Kaelen.

Inside, the sounds returned—laughter, footsteps, the soft thrum of life.

Children played with wooden pulse rods. A vendor called out for candied fruit. Someone sang a lullaby just a few streets over.

Kaelen smiled faintly. “It’s like nothing changed.”

“Everything changed,” Yolti whispered.

Tolan turned. “The king wants to see you. But not tonight. He gave you this.”

He handed Zephryn an envelope. Inside—

• A dorm key
• A Lyceum sigil
• And a folded slip of paper with one line:

“I hope the Choir doesn’t get sound of this.”

Zephryn pocketed it without a word.

The dorm was near the base of the Heartbloom Tree. Simple, but warm. Four beds. A cracked wall where someone had once kicked during training. And a long window facing the moon.

Selka was already inside.

She didn’t speak. She just looked up from the corner.

And for the first time, Zephryn smiled fully.

She nodded once. That was enough.

Later that night, the group walked to Shatter Noodles.

The old vendor—eyes closed, always listening—greeted them.

“Well, well. Look who found his way back.” He passed Zephryn a steaming bowl. “Ramen. Memory egg. Just how you like it.”

Zephryn stared at it.

Did he like it? Did he remember?

Selka sat beside him and placed a hand on his.

“You’re home.”

He ate slowly.

The group talked—Kaelen teasing Yolti, Yolti rolling her eyes, Selka silent but present.

And when they returned to the dorm, one by one they said goodnight.

Yolti curled up on her bunk. Kaelen flopped onto his with a sigh.

Selka lingered.

Zephryn sat on the edge of his bed, scarf in hand.

Selka reached the doorway. Paused.

“Zephryn…”

He looked up.

Her voice was quiet. “Don’t forget.”

Then she walked out.

Zephryn lay back, hand on his chest.

The hum was faint—but it was there.

“Can I really do this…?”

Fade to black.