Collide: The Memory of Stars

Selene's POV

The journey toward the temporary research facility was quiet, the air thick with anticipation.

Though our small sanctuary had been secured, the world beyond still held mysteries we had yet to unravel.

Each step forward brought us closer to understanding the past—whether we were ready for it or not.

As we traveled, a faint melody drifted through the trees, carried by the wind like a whisper of something long forgotten. It was a song, one unlike any I had ever heard, weaving through the branches like an old tale given voice.

Drawn by curiosity, we followed the sound until we came upon a lone figure seated by a crumbling stone, his lute resting against his knee.

He was a bard, dressed in a patchwork cloak, his long blond hair falling in loose waves around his shoulders. His fingers plucked at the strings of his instrument, conjuring a tune both mournful and grand.

The gathered townsfolk sat in hushed reverence, eyes alight with fascination.

Axel and I exchanged glances before stepping forward.

The bard's gaze lifted to meet mine, and with a knowing smile, he inclined his head.

"Ah, wanderers of fate, seekers of truths long buried," he mused, his voice carrying the weight of age-old wisdom.

"Stay and listen, for the echoes of Eldoria's past are written in the verses of my song."

As his fingers danced over the strings, his voice rose, smooth and resonant. The tale he spun was one of despair and glory, of betrayal and sacrifice—a story of the Great War that had shattered Eldoria's golden age.

"When shadows crept where light once reigned,

The sky grew dark, the stars were chained.

From deepest void, the whispers came,

A call to ruin, cloaked in flame.

The Dark Matter seeped through walls unseen,

A silent plague, corrupting dreams.

It crept through veins, through stone and sand,

'Til all that thrived lay in its hand.

Oh, but the dragons soared that day,

Their wings like dawn, their breath like fate.

They raged against the tide of night,

Yet even fire could not set right.

The mighty fell, the heroes lost,

The sky itself paid ruin's cost.

And in the end, when hope was weak,

A sacrifice, the Light did seek.

The heroes bold, with strength so bright,

Were cast away into the night.

And as they vanished, none could say,

Why fate had torn them all away.

With none to stand, with none to fight,

The people fled into the night.

And so the land was lost to war,

Its fate unknown… forevermore."

The bard's song lingered in the air, his final note fading into a heavy silence. I swallowed, my heart pounding at the vivid imagery his words had conjured. Dark Matter infiltrating the kingdom… dragons waging war in the sky… and heroes who vanished, leaving their world defenseless.

I glanced at Axel. His expression was unreadable, his blue eyes fixated on the ground as if searching for something buried beneath the soil. Khael's usual childish energy was absent, his small fists clenched at his sides. Tyra simply stared at the bard, her brow furrowed in deep thought.

"The dragons…" Khael finally murmured.

"They fought against or with the Dark Matter?"

The bard nodded, his fingers idly strumming a soft melody. "Aye, mighty beings they were, protectors of the skies. But even they could not turn the tide alone. The war was vast, spanning lands beyond what we know today. Those who survived did so by vanishing into legend, and now only whispers remain."

Something stirred within me—a flicker of something lost, something hidden in the fractured corners of my mind.

The weight of history pressed against my chest, as if the very land itself was urging me to remember.

"Tell me," I said, stepping closer, "the heroes in your song… what happened to them?"

The bard's lips curled into a somber smile.

"None can say. Some believe they perished in battle, others whisper that they were taken by the void itself. But one thing is certain—without them, Eldoria fell."

A cold shiver ran down my spine. I could feel the truth in his words, lingering just beyond my grasp. There was more to this story, more than just song and legend.

The past was reaching for us, calling us to remember.

The bard lifted his lute once more and, with a final strum, whispered, "Beware, wanderers, for the echoes of war still stir in the silence. And history… has a way of repeating itself."

A chill passed through the crowd. No one spoke as we turned to leave, our thoughts heavy with newfound questions. As we walked away, I found myself clinging to Axel's warmth beside me, needing something to ground me against the weight of what we had just learned.

For the first time since we had begun rebuilding Eldoria, I felt the undeniable truth settle deep in my bones

The past was not done with us yet.

Third Person's POV

[Axel Flashback]

Pain.

It was the first thing Axel remembered when consciousness clawed its way back to him. A searing, unbearable pain that burned through his very essence, as if something fundamental inside him had been torn apart.

His vision was blurred, his body heavy, and the only thing grounding him to reality was the rough sensation of cold stone beneath his back.

"He's still breathing. Barely."

A voice—old, weary, yet filled with something strangely warm. Axel tried to move, but even shifting his fingers sent a wave of agony crashing over him. He was weak. Far too weak. He had failed—failed to protect what mattered. And now, he was somewhere unknown, teetering on the edge of oblivion.

"Foolish boy… what have they done to you?"

A pair of weathered hands pressed against his chest, and suddenly, warmth spread through him.

A different kind of warmth—one that fought against the ice embedded deep within his soul. Magic. It was gentle yet firm, guiding him back from the brink. He wanted to resist, to tell this stranger to let him go, but he was too exhausted to fight.

Time blurred. How long he drifted in and out of consciousness, he didn't know. But each time he awoke, the same figure was there. An old man, wrapped in robes of faded blue, eyes filled with wisdom and sorrow.

"You are safe now."

Axel sat up with a sharp inhale, sweat clinging to his skin. His body still ached, but the unbearable pain had dulled to a lingering throb. He was in a small, candlelit room—bookshelves lined every inch of the walls, crammed with scrolls and tomes so ancient they looked as though they would crumble at the slightest touch.

"Good, you're awake."

The old man stood near a wooden desk, stirring something in a bowl. Axel narrowed his eyes, instinctively scanning the room for any threats, but the man simply chuckled.

"If I wanted you dead, I wouldn't have wasted my energy healing you," he mused. "Drink this. It'll help."

Axel hesitated before accepting the offered cup, the liquid inside carrying the scent of herbs and something vaguely metallic. It tasted as foul as it smelled, but he forced it down, feeling a fraction of his strength return.

"Where am I?" His voice was hoarse, unfamiliar even to himself.

"Far from where you came." The old man—Aldric, as Axel would later learn—settled into a chair, watching him with keen eyes.

"I found you on the brink of death, lying amidst the ruins. Whatever happened before that, you will have to remember on your own."

Axel tried. He closed his eyes, willing the memories to surface.

There had been a battle—no, a catastrophe. Shadows writhing, consuming everything. A desperate fight against an enemy that should not have existed. And then…

Selene.

His heart lurched. He remembered her—fragments of her voice, the way she had looked at him with those pale, knowing eyes. He had sworn to protect her. To keep her safe.

"I have to find her." He tried to stand, but his body betrayed him, forcing him to brace against the bedpost. Aldric sighed, rubbing his temples.

"And so the stubbornness returns. You're in no condition to go running into another battle." He shook his head. "But I had a feeling you wouldn't stay put."

Days passed. Aldric took care of him, tending to his wounds, feeding him when he was too weak to do it himself. He spoke in riddles at times, as if he knew more than he let on.

But he never pressed Axel for details, never demanded answers about where he had come from. Instead, he taught him—about the strange world he now found himself in, about magic, about survival.

And in return, Axel listened.

He learned that Aldric was once a great scholar, a man who had seen the rise and fall of many things. He had witnessed the destruction wrought by Dark Matter, had studied its corrupting nature, and had long since dedicated his life to understanding how to combat it. But he was old now, his magic fading, his strength nothing like it once was.

"You're different from the others," Aldric mused one evening, watching as Axel practiced summoning his weakened abilities.

"There is something… unbroken in you."

Axel didn't know what to say to that.

Axel stood at the threshold of Aldric's home, the weight of the past days pressing against his shoulders. His body was no longer weak, but the scars—both seen and unseen—remained.

The night air was cool, carrying the scent of damp earth and old parchment from the scholar's study.

"So, you're leaving." Aldric's voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable trace of resignation in his tone.

Axel didn't turn back. "I have to," he said simply. A pause. Then, a slow sigh. "I knew you would. That girl… she means something to you, doesn't she?"

Axel's jaw tightened. "She's important."

"Important enough to walk away from everything else?" Aldric's chair creaked as he leaned forward.

"Even if you don't have all the answers yet?" Axel finally turned. His blue eyes, sharp like ice, met the older man's knowing gaze.

"I can't wait for answers. She's out there, and I need to make sure she's safe." Aldric studied him for a long moment before exhaling in amusement.

"Stubborn boy." He reached for something on his desk—a small, worn book bound in dark leather—and held it out.

"Take this. It's not much, but it may help you understand the nature of the things you're dealing with." Axel hesitated before accepting it.

"Thank you… for everything." Aldric smirked.

"Don't thank me yet. If you end up regretting this path, I'll be the first to say 'I told you so.'" With that, Axel turned and walked away, the soft glow of candlelight fading behind him as he stepped into the vast, open night.

Axel moved through the city like a ghost, always watching, always in the shadows. Selene had no idea he was there, nor did she realize just how close the darkness had come to swallowing her whole.

The Dark Matter was drawn to her—an inevitable pull, like the tide to the moon. It lurked in places unseen, slipping between the cracks of reality, waiting for the moment her buried power would stir.

And every time it got too close, Axel was there to push it back.

There were nights when Selene would stop in the middle of the street, a cold shiver running down her spine. She would glance over her shoulder, searching for something she couldn't see.

She was right to feel it. The Dark Matter always hovered just beyond her perception, twisting the air around her.

Axel struck before it could ever reach her.

Sometimes it was subtle—redirecting its attention elsewhere, making sure it never got close enough for her to notice.

Other times, it was a fight, one that left scars hidden beneath his sleeves. He made sure she never saw. She was supposed to live a normal life.

He wasn't supposed to interfere.

But Selene was starting to wake up.

Axel saw the change in her, how her dreams left her more restless. And when the veil between worlds thinned,he knew it was only a matter of time.

She was remembering.

And soon, she would no longer be just a normal girl.

To be continued.