Chapter 98 – The Voices That Rember Too Much
POV: Liora
Sleep had beco one of the few things I no longer trusted.
Weeks ago, I had feared the mories because they were unfamiliar. Now I feared them because they were becoming familiar. Every morning I woke carrying pieces of lives that did not belong to , yet they settled inside my mind with an ease that made them feel natural. The line separating my own experiences from theirs grew thinner every day, and no amount of determination seed capable of stopping it.
I sat beside the window in my chambers and watched the forest stretching beyond the fortress walls. The morning was quiet. Sunlight filtered through the trees, painting the mountains in gold. It should have been peaceful.
Instead, I felt exhausted.
Not physically.
ntally.
Emotionally.
Every waking mont required effort now.
The mories no longer appeared as brief flashes or disconnected fragnts. They arrived complete. They carried emotions, knowledge, instincts, and experiences. Sotis I would suddenly know the na of a star I had never studied. Other tis I would recognize symbols from civilizations that had disappeared centuries before my birth. Once, I caught myself humming a song in a language I didn’t understand and realized halfway through that I sohow knew every word.
The knowledge simply existed.
Waiting.
Accessible.
As though soone had quietly placed entire lifetis inside my mind and expected to sort through them alone.
I closed my eyes and pressed my fingers against my temples.
The pressure behind my forehead returned imdiately.
It had beco a constant companion.
Not painful.
Not exactly.
Just present.
The sensation reminded of standing beside a crowded room with a closed door separating from the conversations inside. I couldn’t hear every voice clearly, but I knew they were there.
Waiting.
Listening.
Rembering.
The mont I relaxed, images surfaced.
A battlefield covered in snow appeared before my eyes. Hundreds of wolves stood beneath silver banners stained with blood. The air slled of iron and smoke. I could hear distant screams and the clash of steel against steel.
The vision felt so real that my pulse accelerated.
Then another mory replaced it.
A stone city built into the side of a mountain.
Massive towers reaching toward the sky.
Children running through crowded streets.
Laughter.
Music.
Life.
The scene shifted again.
A woman standing alone in a ruined temple.
Silver eyes.
White hair.
Blood running down one side of her face.
The images ca faster.
One after another.
A lifeti.
Then another.
Then another.
Each carrying emotions powerful enough to leave breathless.
I opened my eyes sharply.
The visions disappeared.
The emotions didn’t.
My chest tightened as lingering grief, hope, fear, and longing continued echoing through .
The problem wasn’t simply that I was seeing these mories.
The problem was that I was beginning to understand them.
The understanding frightened more than the mories themselves.
Because every ti a vision surfaced, it left sothing behind.
A skill.
A thought.
A feeling.
A certainty.
And I could no longer tell which parts belonged to .
The realization followed throughout the day.
It followed through breakfast.
Through conversations.
Through every corridor I walked.
Every thought felt suspect now.
Every reaction felt questionable.
Even the simplest decisions required second-guessing.
Was that my opinion?
Or soone else’s?
Did I recognize that person because I had t them?
Or because one of the mories had?
The questions never stopped.
By evening, I found myself sitting alone in the library, hoping the silence would help organize the chaos inside my head.
It didn’t.
The voices felt stronger than ever.
Not louder.
Clearer.
There was a difference.
Before, they felt like distant echoes.
Now they felt closer to actual thoughts.
Sotis a mory surfaced before I consciously asked for it.
Sotis knowledge appeared before I realized I needed it.
Sotis emotions arrived without explanation.
And increasingly, those emotions seed directed toward specific people.
Toward Kael.
The realization unsettled .
I had noticed it before.
Small reactions.
Familiarity that didn’t belong to .
Recognition that felt older than my own mories.
Whenever Kael entered a room, sothing inside responded.
Not just .
Sothing else.
Many sothings.
The sensation beca impossible to ignore.
As if multiple lives were reacting simultaneously.
So with affection.
So with grief.
So with relief.
So with longing.
The emotions contradicted one another, yet all of them felt genuine.
That night, I finally stopped resisting.
I returned to my chambers, sat on the edge of my bed, and allowed the mories to co.
The pressure behind my eyes intensified imdiately.
My breathing slowed.
The room around faded.
Not completely.
Just enough.
Images surfaced.
A forest.
Moonlight.
A man standing beside .
I couldn’t see his face clearly.
Yet I knew him.
The certainty hit instantly.
Trust.
Safety.
Love.
The emotions wrapped around with such force that tears burned behind my eyes.
The mory shifted.
Another life.
Another ti.
The sa feeling.
Different surroundings.
Different clothing.
Different world.
The sa man.
Again.
Another mory followed.
Then another.
And another.
Each one carried a version of him.
Not identical.
Not exactly.
Yet unmistakably connected.
A warrior.
A king.
A protector.
A leader.
Different faces.
Different lives.
The sa soul.
My breath caught.
The realization settled slowly.
So of these mories knew Kael.
Not Kael exactly.
Sothing older.
Sothing that existed before him.
The awareness sent a chill through .
The visions continued.
A battlefield appeared.
The man stood surrounded by enemies.
Blood covered his armor.
His sword remained raised despite the wounds covering his body.
The mory owner’s heart shattered as she watched.
The grief felt so intense that I nearly doubled over.
The scene changed.
Another life.
Another war.
Another ending.
The sa feeling.
Loss.
Pain.
Despair.
Again.
And again.
And again.
I began shaking.
Not from fear.
From understanding.
The mories weren’t random.
There was a pattern.
A horrifying pattern.
The sa soul appeared repeatedly.
The sa connection.
The sa ending.
Death.
Every ti.
My pulse thundered in my ears.
The visions accelerated.
A burning city.
A collapsing fortress.
A frozen battlefield.
A ruined kingdom.
Different centuries.
Different worlds.
Different lives.
The sa loss.
The sa grief.
The sa ending.
My chest tightened painfully.
Then, for the first ti, one of the voices beca completely clear.
Not a feeling.
Not an emotion.
Words.
Actual words.
The voice belonged to a woman.
Ancient.
Tired.
Certain.
The statent arrived with terrifying clarity.
"He always dies."
The world seed to stop.
The room snapped back into focus.
I found myself sitting on the edge of my bed, breathing hard.
Sweat covered my skin.
My heart felt as though it might burst from my chest.
The voice lingered.
Not fading.
Not retreating.
Waiting.
As though it had simply spoken an undeniable truth.
I stared into the darkness.
My thoughts raced.
Every mory.
Every vision.
Every loss.
All of them pointing toward the sa conclusion.
The certainty inside those mories terrified .
Because they believed it.
They had seen it happen.
Again and again.
Enough tis to stop questioning it.
Enough tis to accept it.
Enough tis to expect it.
My hands curled into fists.
A different emotion rose inside .
Not fear.
Defiance.
For weeks, I had allowed the mories to overwhelm .
I had allowed them to shape my understanding of the world.
I had allowed them to convince that history was stronger than choice.
Not this ti.
I wasn’t those won.
I wasn’t those lives.
I wasn’t those endings.
The mories could show the past.
They did not get to decide the future.
The realization settled deep inside my chest.
Steady.
Certain.
Unshakable.
As the voice echoed one final ti inside my mind, I lifted my head and stared into the darkness beyond the window.
My heart tightened at the thought of Kael.
At the thought of losing him.
At the thought of history repeating itself.
Then I made a silent promise.
One the mories would hear.
One the voices would understand.
One I intended to keep.
Not this ti.
Not him.
Not again.
And as the weight of countless forgotten lives pressed against my thoughts, only one answer remained.
...not this ti.
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