The Forgotten Dawn

I woke to softness.

Not silk. Not feathers. But her—Kazuha—curled against me, breathing slow and steady, one wing tucked around us like a blanket of quiet light. My arm rested around her shoulders, and her fingers were still loosely tangled in mine.

The chimes outside the window stirred gently, their rhythm slow and low, like a lullaby that hadn’t finished yet.

She shifted, her eyes fluttering open—sleepy, soft, and full of something that made my chest ache.

“Morning,” I whispered.

“Mm,” she murmured, her voice still wrapped in dreams. “I love the sound of that.”

We stayed like that for a while, our words sparse, our touches light. Time seemed to forget us for a little while—just long enough for a memory to be made.

Eventually, she sighed and sat up, wincing slightly as her bandaged wing moved with her. I reached up instinctively, steadying her.

“You okay?” I asked.

She smiled faintly, “I’ll fly again. Just… maybe not today.” She said softly as she pulled her robe around her. I couldn't help but stare at her body that I didn't realized my jaw was hanging open until she closed it with her fingers.

"It's nice to know someone wants me this bad," she whispered naughtily.

I chuckled, “Rest. I’ll come back to you later.”

“You better,” she said, playful but quiet.

Then, just before she left, she kissed my forehead—not with fire or passion, but with something steadier. A promise.

As she struts out of my room, Stillveil glides in my window, depositing the Compass at my bedside desk before slithering and wrapping herself around Kazuha's injured wing. She opened the door and gave me one last smile before she closes it.

I grinned from ear to ear as I turned and looked at the Compass in my desk.

"Great night, partner?" I asked.

"The best," he replied.
---

The halls of Dazkora were quieter today. Or maybe I was just walking softer.

The Compass was now clipped back to my belt.

"So, anything to tell your partner about your night?" I asked the Compass.

"Nope. A real man does not kiss and tell," he replied smugly, the pointy bastard.

"Anyway, I've been meaning to ask.."

"About the teleporting? Figured you will one of these days," he answered.

"Yeah. Well how does it work for starters? And limits and drawbacks. Aside from the vomiting," I asked.

"Well..." he started. "The basic premise is, anything you rely on or trust, you can go to."

I nodded, "Wait. That's it?"

"What? It's a simple yet elegant ability. Like yours truly," he replied haughtily.

"So the daggers..."

"You've been dual-wielding daggers since you were a kid. And these daggers you now have, served you through more scrapes than any other blade you've held."

"So I just, throw them and I appear at their location?"

"Basically. Doesn't matter if you know where they are or not. I connect the souls, I point them to where they need to go."

I pondered on that thought.

"So... anything I rely on or trust I can go to?"

The Compass sighed, "You're lucky I had a great night or else I won't be answering these repetitive questions," he grumbled. "Yeah. But the bigger and farther they are, the faster we burn both our energies."

"What do you mean by both our energies?"

The Compass hums and spins it needle once like it's rolling its eyes, "Yeah. I provide the energy to transport you, yet your body must be strong enough to handle the pressure, you're mortal after all. The farther the jump, or the more you jump, the more strain to us. That's why the fight with Ignariel was so exhausting with you jumping around from dagger to dagger. Gotta say, sick fighting style though."

I pondered the possibilities of the ability as I headed toward Sakura’s room. I didn’t know what I was expecting—maybe sleep, maybe silence. Maybe to finally see her without pain in her eyes.

Instead, I found Yunjin.

She sat beside Sakura’s bedside, arms crossed but gaze soft. Her crimson cloak spilled behind her like a whisper of flame. The Ashen Ember Ring rested on the edge of her knuckle, its glow faint but steady. She extended a fist, and I bumped it with my own earning a satisfied smirk from the redhead.

Sakura was awake, sitting up slowly with a pillow behind her. The Temporal Vow still floated near her, dim as dusk. It pulsed faintly as if to acknowledge my presence.

When she saw me, she smiled.

Not a wide grin—not yet—but something warmer than I’d seen in days.

“Hey,” I said gently.

“You’re late,” she teased, voice weak but laced with familiar mischief.

“I didn’t know I was expected.”

“You always are.”

I chuckled, sitting at the edge of her bed, “How are you feeling?”

“Like someone, or a lot of someones, tried to rewrite time inside my chest. My insides feel like sand,” she winced, then laughed. “But it’s fading. Bit by bit.”

I nodded, but she looked at me a little longer than I expected. Her eyes were quiet. Knowing.

Then she tilted her head just slightly and said, “I hope… you slept well.”

There was no accusation. No bitterness. Just a glimmer in her eye that made my breath catch.

“I did,” I said honestly.

“Good,” she replied, her voice softening. “You deserve it,” she paused. "You both deserve it," she said with a genuine smile.

I looked at her quizzically. Yunjin didn’t speak for a moment. But when she finally did, her tone was dry as ever.

“She’s playing the long game,” she muttered. “Trust me. She always knows more than she says.”

“Yunjin,” Sakura murmured, amused. "You'll join us, eventually."

"Uh-huh," Yunjin nodded before realizing what Sakura meant. "Wai— what?" She sat up, facing Sakura. "Me?" She points at herself before pointing at me.

Sakura just laughs softly and nods.

"Huh." Yunjin sighed before raising a hand in mock surrender. “Fine. Your visions are not etched in stone anyway. Multiple branching timelines and possibilities and all that," she sighed. "I’m just saying. If I were Seren, I’d watch my back—and maybe bring flowers next time,” she eyed me from head to toe.

I rolled my eyes, but smiled.

Then Yunjin stood up, stretching. “Alright, time’s up. Go on, lover boy. Our other sister wants to see you.”

I paused, “Chaewon?”

Yunjin nodded, more serious now, “She’s waiting by the Solarium. Said something about truth and trials and ‘finding the Last Light.’ Honestly, I stopped listening after that.”

Sakura reached for my hand as I turned to go and I held it, “She’s not your enemy, Seren," she said as she curled her fingers into mine. "Just… don’t let her shape you too much. Not before you know who you are.”

I nodded, “I’ll be back.”

“Don’t take too long,” Sakura whispered. “Time’s more fragile than it looks.”

And with that, I let go and stepped out of the room—heading toward the place where even the wind dared to walk slowly.

Toward Chaewon.
--------

The Solarium was quiet.

Not the kind of quiet that comes with peace—but the kind that feels listening. As though even silence waited for someone to speak first.

The light here was strange—neither day nor night, sun nor moon. Glass spires arched overhead, etched with constellations that shifted with slow deliberation, casting fractured shadows across the floor. In the center, Chaewon stood with her back to me, draped in midnight fabric that rippled like ink in water. Her hair hung loose, her wings unfurled like velvet banners, dark as memory.

She didn’t turn when she spoke.

“Did you sleep well?”

The words were simple. Deliberate.

But in her voice, they echoed far too deeply.

I blinked, “What?”

A slow smile touched her lips—soft and unreadable. “Kazuha left your chamber at dawn. The wind told me,” she paused, “well, that and your Compass is far from silent.”

I tapped the Compass aggressively, “Seriously? You were listening to him?”

“I can’t help it,” she said, finally turning to face me, a hint of a smirk in her face. “Relics... speak, if you know how to hear them.”

I stared at her, “So what, you can read their minds?”

She stepped closer, her expression calm but intense, “No. I can hear their voices. Their impulses. Their thoughts. But I cannot bend them to my will. Not like their bearers can.”

I glanced down at the Compass. “So, your relic?" I asked, observing that she has no item in her person that exudes divine energy.

“Yes,” she said. “I do have a relic."

She pointed towards a circular table at the far edge of the solarium. There sits a barbed iron diadem. As I stared at it, it seems to move closer, whispering words of pain and torment.

"Do not listen to it," Chaewon said softly, moving my gaze from her relic to her face with her fingers. "Even my sisters won't be able to resist the pain and torment it spews."

"And yet you do?" I asked, painfully aware of how close our faces are.

She smiles, regret, pain, and sorrow, hidden within the creases of her lips.

"That crown... is... wrong." The Compass whispered.

"You don't like her?" Chaewon asked the compass as she turned away from me.

"She was not always like that," Chaewon continued melancholically. "In the same way Stillveil went from being the Veil of Aeirion into the Gravemist Sash, my..." she pauses and chokes subtly, as if the name was hard for her to say. "... my Primus, was once a bright Halo. The Halo of Resonance she was called. Radiant she was. As blinding as the sun. But now, after our Fall, she turned into that." She kept her gaze at the relic as if looking at a loved one who's about to die. "She has lost her voice, yet she still carries mine and amplifies my commands."

Surprised by her sudden openness, I listened intently, fearing that if I don't, she'll command me to fall on my blades.

She turned to me, and for a split second I saw vulnerability, which was immediately masked by her usual stoic and hard expression, albeit just a little bit softer. "The crown allows my voice to move anything with souls," she said. "And that’s why this next part matters.”

She held my gaze.

“My Commands don’t work on you.”

That gave me pause.

“I’ve tried twice,” she continued before I can interject, her voice level. “Once during the battle with Ignariel. I told you to kneel. You didn’t.”

I remembered that moment. The burning air. The pressure in my chest. And still, I stood.

“The second,” she said, “was when you awoke in the temple here in Dazkora. I told you to ask your questions. And yet… you resisted.”

I frowned. “That... wasn’t a Command. Was it?”

“It was,” she said simply. “Subtle, woven between tone and intent. Enough to break lesser minds,” she chuckled. "And don't tell me you didn't know otherwise. I know you felt the power course over your body."

"And also, when I severed your connection with the Compass, I didn't sever your end of the connection," her gaze lowered to the Compass clipped on my belt — "I severed his." Her gaze goes back to hold my eyes. "Because my power does not work on you, Seren Solari."

I stared at her, tension crawling up my spine. The Compass hummed, its needle ticking in confusion, “Why doesn’t it work?”

Chaewon tilted her head, as if she were still trying to answer that herself. Then I remembered.

“Is it Valamar?”

Chaewon flinched at the sound of the name. Speaking it felt like rusted iron on my tongue and the room suddenly felt colder, heavier, and darker. I felt the space around us twist uncomfortably and before I become nauseous, Chaewon placed a hand on my arm and everything returned to normal.

"Names have power, Seren," she warned low.

“Ignariel spoke it before you banished her.”

Chaewon’s expression dimmed as she walks towards a chair by the side of the solarium. As she sat, she seemed, weary. “I do not know,” she answered, beckoning me to sit beside her.

For a moment, her eyes shimmered—not with light, but with weight. When she finally spoke, her voice dropped.

“Valamar is my Counter.”

She gestured toward the arching glass above us, and the stars etched into it shifted—aligning, reshaping.

I watched as a figure emerged in the constellation-glow. Towering. Shrouded in chains of scripture. A face without a mouth, but a voice that echoed nonetheless.

"How did you do that?" I asked in wonder.

"I Commanded it. Well, I Commanded its soul to do it for us," she answered as she looked at my dumbfounded face. "Even inanimate objects have a soul. How do you think your Compass connects you to your daggers?"

"So you can Command those beings and things with souls," I nodded. "And your Counter?" I asked, not trusting to utter Valamar's name again.

Chaewon sighed wearily. "His voice also commands,” Chaewon said. “A hollow angel, wrapped in law and liturgy. His every word is reality rewritten. Physics. Memory. Even morality. If he says the sky is red, it becomes red. If he says a traitor never lived, their name vanishes from history.” She stared at me again, "He commands concepts and laws to his will, because they don't have a will, they don't have a soul."

I felt my stomach twist.

“Command Absolute,” she said. “He does not argue. He declares.”

“I was meant to lead,” she said. “But he believes leadership is not earned. Only inherited. And as the first creation of the Last Tyrant, he believes my freedom was a flaw in creation. A clerical error.”

"The Last Tyrant?" I asked, trying to will my head not to burst.

"That one, is mine and my sisters' problem," she answered with finality.

"Your sisters' problems are my problems," I defied.

She chuckled, "See what I meant when I said you were a mortal meddling with the divine."

I chuckled back, "Figured I'll give you a taste of your own medicine."

She smirked wickedly, her eyes seemed to burn a little darker but stronger, making my skin crawl. "Touchè, Solari. You're making it difficult not to like you." She said teasingly.

I felt blood rush to my face after hearing her words, "Wait.. what?"

“Your free will,” she says, pulling us back to our previous conversation and leaving what she just said with a finality I was not satisfied with, “was a clerical error.”

She stood and walked past me, her fingers grazing the outer rim of the Solarium’s crystal table. Her wings trailed faint patterns of light in their wake. She then looked back at me.

"You don’t fit into the framework of nature or physics. Not entirely. That’s why my Voice can’t command you. And if I can’t… then neither can Valamar.”

I stared at her. “What if he just... commands that he can command me?”

The moment hung heavy.

Chaewon exhaled. “He might. That is his nature. He rewrites the rules when they don't favor him.”

“But,” she continued, leaning in closer now, “you are not just a variable. You are an anomaly. A fixed fracture in the pattern. For him to bend you… it would cost him more than he usually pays.”

Her gaze darkened. “And that strain—that moment of exertion—is our opening. Which also means, he won't do it unless absolutely necessary. Only when he's backed into a corner.”

“You are the exception to his rule, Seren. That is why you must never fall under his voice. Not even once.”

I looked down at the Compass, then back to her. “And if I do?”

She didn’t blink. “Then even truth itself might begin to lie.”

"You're planning to use me against him." I realized.

"He's trying to kill you anyway. You're gonna face him sooner rather than later. And it pays to at least have a plan, even if it is not a good one."

I huffed. "So, your Counter, is he stronger than Seraphiniel?" I asked.

Chaewon was silent for a moment. "He is."

I closed my eyes, realizing that Seraphiniel might not be my greatest threat.

"Seraphiniel is Valamar's lieutenant, his right wing. But he mostly lets her do what she wants as he also takes joy in the cruelty she inflicts. To get to Valamar, we must get to Seraphiniel."

Silence returned to the Solarium. It lingered long after the words were gone.

Chaewon had spoken of Valamar. Of the voice that could break laws and bend truth. Of a war not yet fought, but already waiting. And when she finished, we sat there—not as enemies or people who will be instrumental in the coming battles—but as two souls staring into a void neither wanted to name, at a responsibility neither wanted to have, but were both thrust into our hands.

I had no answers to give her. Only questions.

And she had one more truth to offer—one she fears to share, but had no choice left but to do so.

Chaewon rose from her seat, her wings barely brushing the edge of the Solarium’s crystal table. “Do you know where you're going next?" She asked.

I looked at the compass. "Southeast."

Chaewon smiled. "Do you know what you're looking for?"

"If my gut is right, your last sister."

She smiled faintly, I detected hints of pride in her eyes. Was she proud that I answered her correctly?

I stayed seated, not because she commanded me—but because I could feel it. The weight behind her next words.

She turned, her expression unreadable, and for a moment I saw not the Archangel of Will—but a sister missing something vital.

“You’ve met four of us. Me. Sakura. Kazuha. Yunjin.” She ticked them off like stars in the sky. “We were Seraphim once. Each, ruling over a facet of reality, Kazuha rules motion and space, Sakura rules time and memory, Yunjin — emotions and passion, and me — I rule the will and the soul.”

“And there’s one more,” I said slowly, already knowing.

She nodded. “The Fifth. The Last Light.”

A stillness came over the Solarium—not a silence, but an absence. As if even sound dared not intrude on the memory.

“Her name,” Chaewon whispered, “was Eunchae.”

She didn’t need to explain who Eunchae was. The name alone shimmered with warmth. It rang like the first song of morning, like laughter through stained glass.

“She was the youngest of us, and the one with the strongest potential” Chaewon said. “The brightest. Light, hope, joy, and faith—these weren’t just her domains. They were who she was.”

“She… sounds like the heart of the group.”

Chaewon smiled faintly. “She was. She held us together. When we questioned our purpose, she reminded us why we loved the stars. When we grew cold with conflict, she reminded us of warmth. And when we fell…” her voice cracked slightly, “she disappeared.”

“Disappeared?”

“No signs. No relic left behind. Not even her wings. Just light—scattered and gone.”

I frowned. “Then how do you know she fell?”

“Because the light changed,” Chaewon said. “The world no longer sang the way it used to. It slowly lost faith. The morning didn’t rise the same. And in certain corners of the realm… there were sightings. Blinding brilliance. Laughter twisted into weeping. Hope, devoured in seconds.”

She leaned forward.

“We think she still lives. But not as herself.”

I felt the words settle like ash.

“She is no longer the Angel of Light,” Chaewon continued, her voice quiet. “We believe she has become something else. Something that feeds on the very things she once gave freely. And in the South East, she was given another name.”

“The Dim Star,” the Compass murmured.

Chaewon’s eyes hardened. “A sun that drains instead of warms. Her light no longer heals—it hungers, and what hungers, devours.”

My stomach twisted, my head spun. “Do we know where she is?”

“No.” She stood and walked to the edge of the Solarium, where constellations pulsed softly beneath her feet. “What we know is that somewhere beyond the southern reaches, beyond maps, beyond even probably memory, we’ve seen fragments. Dreams. Echoes. Her relic—the Sunshine Pendant—still glows in some visions. But not with sunlight. With something colder.”

“You want me to find her.”

Chaewon turned to me, her expression unreadable. “I want us to find her.”

"You're coming with us?"

Chaewon tilted her head, "You don't want me to?"

I snapped in anxiety as I felt blood run across my cheeks. "Noo. No, no, no, no. That was nooot what I meant." I said defensively. The Compass hummed rhythmically as if chuckling at my discomfort.

Chaewon chuckled as well. "I won't bite," she teased, leaning in almost flirtatiously. "Not unless Kazuha and Sakura allow me to," she added, her voice seductively low it made my head spin. Blood filled my cheeks, and something somewhere else I'd rather not say as I stare at her half-lidded eyes.

"Can we... get back on track?" I coughed, trying to focus on what's important, which is certainly not her eyes on mine, or her lips, or her.... no, no, no, snap out of it, I thought.

Chaewon chuckled as she leans back.

I breathed deeply to calm myself.

Chaewon began again. "If we find her..."

"When we find her." I interjected, earning a soft, approving smile from the Fallen.

"When we find her, promise me this."

"I don't like where this is going."

"Neither do I but its necessary." I can feel the pain and reluctance in her voice.

"Go on."

"If it comes to saving us or saving her, save her." She said, cold and flat, like she didn't want to say it but she had to.

"What do you mean?" I asked confused.

She sighed. "Let us all fade if we must—but not hope. Never hope. If it means she lives and we die, make sure she lives."

I stood up in defiance. "No! I will not sacrifice any of you."

She scoffed. "You won't, we are sacrificing ourselves."

"Without even consulting your sisters?!"

"They will understand, they will follow, and if not, I can just Command them to." The way she said it so nonchalantly made me snap.

"You will override their free will, their choice, for this?!" I roared.

She flapped her wings, taking off from the ground to be a few inches higher than me. "To save hope? To save light? Yes! The realms can survive without space, time, emotion, or will, but it cannot survive without hope!" She roared back, her eyes blazed with will but her tone was not weighed with judgment. It was hope.

"There must be another way." I said, subdued.

She smiled as she floated back to the floor. "It would be hypocritical of me to say no when we were just talking about hope. If there is another way, you must find it, Compass-bearer."

"I will." I replied, defiant.

She sat beside me again and the silence between us was deafening.

"Do you have any other questions?" She said softly, breaking the silence.

"Yeah. A lot."

"Go ahead, I'll answer what I can." she said wearily.

"When are we leaving?"

"I'd prefer immediately but..."

"Sakura." We both said in unison.

"Yes. She's still too weak to travel." Chaewon finished.

I nodded.

Another silence.

"If Eunchae is the youngest..." I began. "Then are you the oldest?"

Chaewon chuckled. "Why do you ask? Because I lead them?"

I nodded.

"No. Sakura is the eldest." She answered.

My eyes widened.

She chuckled as she leaned on her chair, her wings spreading on her sides. "Time was born first, and after it — the soul, and then the soul had emotion, a passion, this passion urged the soul to move, and when it did, it felt joy, light, and hope."

I nodded. "Sakura, you, Yunjin, Kazuha, and Eunchae. In that order."

She nodded, smiling as if reminiscing her childhood, their childhood.

"Sometimes, I still see her glow behind my eyelids when I close them. Like a memory the world itself hasn’t forgotten, only buried." Her eyes sparkled as the beginning of tears formed.

"You should go," she said.

"Command me." I refused softly.

"You're making it a habit, defying me," she said, though there was no venom in her voice.

"That's because I'm the only one who can," I replied smugly.

"Please," she pleaded softly, awkwardly, like she wasn't used to pleading, which she's not, it may be the first time in her eons long life that she said those words.

"Alright." I said as I stood. "I've been wanting to try something anyways."

She rose with me, curiosity flickering in her eyes.

"Compass," I called and telepathically said what I'm planning to do.

"Oh no you don't." The Compass objected. "Ohhhh no no no."

Chaewon narrowed her eyes as she looks at us curiously.

"Why not? You said as long as I trust what I'm jumping to then it is possible." I retorted.

"It's too far. And just to remind you, you're still a mortal, you're not strong enough yet!" The Compass fired back.

Chaewon chuckled and smiled as she finally understood what I was planning. "You'll definitely be sick from what you're planning." I noted that the tears welling in her eyes are no longer there, instead it was bright with mischief.

I smiled. "At least I get to see you smile before I leave."

Chaewon's eyes widened and her cheeks blushed. I then felt the familiar tug in my gut as I jumped. A flash of light and I opened my eyes to a surprised Kazuha, Yunjin, and Sakura, all three are inside Sakura's room, Kazuha on Sakura's bedside, Yunjin sitting by the window, and Sakura pacing around her room.

The trio stared at me with wide eyes. "You're looking green, Seren," Yunjin commented, a wicked grin on her face.

My gut twisted, bile rose up my throat.

"Told you this was a bad idea." The Compass told me as I rushed outside to find somewhere to puke.