The Elder looked directly at the smiling young man. Pain filled his eyes — the specific pain of betrayal coming from someone you had invested deeply in. "You were my finest disciple."
The young man only smiled. "My name no longer matters. History belongs to those willing to rewrite it."
The Elder slowly closed his eyes, as though he could no longer bear to look at what he had helped create. "No. Your name must be remembered, must be preserved so that this moment will never be forgotten."
He spoke it clearly, with all the authority that the Star Keepers' knowledge of true names had given him.
"Caelis."
The vision trembled violently. Then it shattered.
Aether opened his eyes abruptly, his breathing uneven, his heart moving with the specific rhythm that came from encountering something significant. "Caelis," he repeated the name unconsciously, testing it on his tongue, feeling the weight of it.
