The morning after the Hollow Bride vanished, mist hung low over Hallowmere like a shroud. The village did not speak of what had happened—not aloud. But candles were left at doorsteps. Names were written in chalk on the stones. And no child was allowed to wander.
Which, of course, meant one did.
The child wore a crooked lantern on his head.
It was made of bone and paper, with red glyphs inked by a trembling hand. A charm against memory theft. Or so the villagers claimed. The boy, no older than eight, wore it proudly like a crown as he skipped between gravestones.
Arjuna watched him from a distance. The boy didn't seem cursed. Didn't reek of shadow or silence.
But something about the lantern unsettled him.
Tellen caught up, breathless.
"There he is. That's the one I told you about. Name's Elrik. Been… strange since birth. Speaks in tongues. Draws with charcoal even though he's blind."
"Blind?" Arjuna asked. "He's staring right at us."
"Exactly."
The child stopped before them and smiled.
"You were cursed by a god," he said to Arjuna. "But not the one you think."
Tellen froze.
Arjuna stepped forward. "What do you mean?"
The child tilted his head. The lantern creaked.
"Follow me. The Binding Tree is waiting."
Then he turned—and ran.
They followed him beyond the old graveyard, past the stone fences and into the woods. The trail twisted unnaturally, like space itself folded wrong. Crows flew backward. Leaves bled sap that shimmered violet.
And then they reached it.
The Binding Tree.
It stood alone in a glade, gnarled and impossibly tall, its bark cracked like charred flesh. Hundreds of ribbons fluttered from its branches—each a vow. Each a broken promise.
"Gods," Tellen whispered. "I've only read about this."
Arjuna approached.
One ribbon was blacker than the rest. As he touched it, a voice tore through his skull.
"You broke the vow. So we broke you."
He staggered.
The child stood at the base of the tree now, arms outstretched.
"This is where they bound your memory. This is where she wept."
"Who?" Arjuna gasped.
The lantern child looked up, solemn now.
"Nyssara."
A wind swept through the glade. The ribbons hissed and curled like snakes. One drifted down and wrapped around Arjuna's wrist. He didn't resist.
The world reeled.
A memory.
The Binding Tree, younger. Untouched.
Nyssara stood beneath it, barefoot in blood.
"You will forget me," she whispered, tears streaming down her face. "But I won't let you become their weapon."
She held a blade to her own palm. Let the blood drip into the roots.
"I bind your love. Your name. Your godhood. Let you be only a man, until the world is ready."
He tried to scream. But in the vision, he was already gone.
Already empty.
Arjuna collapsed back into the now.
The child knelt beside him. "She didn't curse you. She saved you. But the Vow… it's not done."
Tellen was pale. "What the hell was that?"
Arjuna stood slowly.
"My first truth."
He unwrapped the ribbon from his wrist. It dissolved into ash.
"She gave up everything to save me. I don't remember why. But I think… I loved her."
That night, the sky bled pale gold.
The Binding Tree stood silent.
And far away, in the Demon Continent, Nyssara turned in her sleep.
One tear slid down her cheek.