After paying and leaving the restaurant, Sylas was far too full to sail immediately. So the two of them sat near the edge of the island, watching boats drift lazily across the water.
Sylas couldn't stop thinking about the Nightmare Spell and why it felt so important.
Somehow, deep in his mind, he knew that if he could just fit this one piece of the puzzle into place, all the others would fall into line. He was certain of it. Yet no matter how long he sat there thinking nothing came into his mind. Absolutely nothing.
A long sigh left his mouth.
"You're too young to sigh that dramatically,"
Anna said, flicking a stone across the water. It bounced so many times that Sylas lost count before it finally sank.
'Am I?'
He thought quietly, throwing a stone of his own. It only bounced once.
"That was better than before,"
She said teasingly.
"It's not a competition, you know. It's not like you can compete with me anyway, I'm an Ascendent."
She said it with all the pride of someone announcing the coolest thing in the world… and she wasn't wrong.
"...Sure," he replied.
'Like I know what that means.'
"You're making that face again," she said, ruffling his hair.
"What face?"
"I am not sure. I just feel like you are making too much of that face."
Sylas only raised an eyebrow, ignoring her rebuke.
Misinterpreting his silence, Anna began gently patting his head.
"It's not as bad as it seems, Sylas. Your memories will come back with time, I'm sure of it. You still have me to take care of you."
Sylas forced a small, reassuring smile for her.
"I know. I am not sad about it, just… thoughtful."
"Sure, thinking is exactly what you should be doing right now…" her voice dripped with sarcasm.
"Well—"
He started to answer, but something suddenly came back to him. He reached inside his clothes and pulled out the thin book he had been carrying.
"Hey, do you think you can open this?"
"Your annotation book?"
She took it from him.
'So he forgot even Sorcery…'
With a deep breath, she said the True Word of Open.
The change was immediate. The book trembled in her hands, its edges shifting and stretching. The thin booklet thickened, pages multiplying in a rush until it became a proper tome of at least a hundred pages.
"Here," she said, handing it back to him. "Maybe this will help you remember."
She stood up with a sigh.
"I'll prepare the boat."
And then she walked away, leaving Sylas alone with the book in his lap and the weight of whatever secrets it held.
"What do you think is in here?" he asked Silk, who was happily enjoying the river breeze from his hand.
The little spider simply shrugged.
He took a deep breath before turning the first page.
'Again this damn language…'
The first page was filled with annotations he couldn't make sense of. The script was the same one used everywhere in Weave—so why couldn't he understand it?
'This damn Spell… Why isn't it working properly?'
The thought surfaced instinctively, born from frustration, he didn't even register what it implied.
He flipped through the pages. More runes he couldn't decipher, more scribbles in a language that should have been familiar. Yet even without understanding a single symbol, he studied each one carefully, his eyes tracing every line and stroke. A habit he didn't even notice he had.
"Can you read this?"
He asked Silk. Naturally, she couldn't. Unsurprised, he kept going.
It didn't take long before he reached the end of the book.
Turns out that if you don't actually read anything, and just flip through the pages frantically, a hundred-page tome can be finished in a few minutes.
By the time he closed it, his frustration was at its peak. He had to lie back on the floor to stop himself from hurling the book straight into the river.
'Another dead end…'
He closed his eyes, letting the cool river breeze soothe his thoughts. Silk climbed up to his cheek and settled there, enjoying the wind alongside him. A shadow drifted over him, cutting off the warm sunlight.
"Are you done?" Anna asked.
"I guess…"
He pushed himself upright.
"Do we have to go back to the temple? Can we explore the city a little more?"
"Hm…Sure, why not. Maybe it will help you a little."
Sylas smiled in response.
Just as they were about to move, a sudden melody drifted through the air. It was a soft one, delicate, almost fragile but undeniably beautiful. The notes floated across the river, gentle and slow, like a lullaby carried by the wind.
Silk perked up on his cheek, her eight eyes widening.
Anna turned toward the source of the sound, brows narrowing.
"That's… unusual."
Following her gaze, Sylas saw a lone boat drifting along the river's current. Only one person stood inside it. He wore a simple grey tunic with silver details. It was probably beautiful once, but now it was worn and tattered. His long, filthy hair hung like seaweed, obscuring most of his face. Resting on his head was a jagged band of dark metal, shaped like a tarnished crown.
"It's not common to see someone getting this far upstream…" Anna murmured.
Then she felt something tug at her clothes.
When she looked down, Sylas was clinging to her side. His entire body trembled. In his eyes, wide and unfocused, pure dread could be seen as he stared at the figure at the distance.
Anna immediately dropped to her knees in front of him, her hands cupping his face with urgent gentleness.
"Sylas, Sylas, look at me! What's wrong? What happened?"
But he couldn't answer. His breath hitched in short, panicked bursts, and his small hands dug into her clothes as if letting go meant certain death. His golden eyes stared past her, unfocused, trembling, locked on the figure.
"Sylas," she whispered more firmly, trying to bring him back. "Talk to me. What scared you?"
Silk crawled quickly onto his cheek, pressing herself against his skin in a small, desperate attempt to calm him.
Anna glanced toward the river, toward the lone drifting boat, her expression hardening. Then, as if sensing her gaze, the figure stopped playing. His head shifted, slowly and unnaturally, his hidden eyes turned toward them.
The moment their gazes met, Anna froze. A cold, primal fear punched through her chest. It wasn't the fear of danger or uncertainty.
It was the kind of fear that came when death itself looked back at you.
Her breath caught. Her hands tightened around Sylas without meaning to.
Now she knew. That thing on the boat… it wasn't human. Not even close.
It was a Corrupted Titan.