The boat plunged into the river.
Lyra didn't have time to scream. Black water closed over her head. She tried to swim, but the current dragged her body under.
All around her, memory petals whirled. There were white, red, and blue petals. Each one carried a voice.
A child's laughter. A mother's sobs. Voices calling her name.
Then a hand grasped her wrist.
Elian.
He pulled Lyra upward. They broke the surface and coughed.
But they were no longer in the river.
They stood in a vast room. Its walls were made of glass. Beyond the glass, thousands of memory petals drifted like stars.
“Where are we?” Lyra asked.
Elian looked around. “I've been here before.”
“How do you know?”
“I don't know. My feet do.”
They walked slowly. In the center of the room stood a black door. Written above it was a single sentence:
MEMORIES NEVER DISAPPEAR. THEY ARE ONLY MOVED.
Lyra touched the door.
In an instant, pain seized her chest. She saw herself standing in the same room. Her hair was longer. Her clothes were covered in blood.
Elian lay on the floor in front of her.
“Wake up,” Lyra said in the vision. “You can't die yet.”
Elian opened his eyes.
“Lyra,” he whispered. “Take that Black Petal.”
“No. We can find another way.”
“There is no other way.”
Elian raised his hand and touched Lyra's face.
“If I forget you, don't hate me.”
Lyra cried. “I will never hate you.”
“What if I attack you?”
“I'll still come looking for you.”
“What if I kill you?”
Lyra bit her lip.
“I'll forgive you.”
The vision stopped.
Lyra returned to the glass room and collapsed to her knees.
Elian stared at her. “What did you see?”
“Us.”
“Do I love you?”
The question left Lyra speechless.
She wanted to answer, but she was afraid. If she said it, Elian might forget her even faster.
Before Lyra could speak, the black door opened.
The Black-Eyed Young Man stood behind it.
“Just answer him,” he said. “He has the right to know.”
Elian raised his sword. “You again.”
“I never left.”
The young man pointed at Elian's chest. The black lines across the prince's body began to glow.
“I am the part of you that you cast away.”
“Why do you want me to remember everything?” Elian asked.
“Because without those memories, I can't be free.”
“Free from what?”
The young man smiled.
“From your body.”
The glass floor suddenly cracked. The petals above them fell like rain.
A Black Petal stuck to Elian's forehead.
He screamed.
Another memory appeared.
Elian stood on the palace balcony. In his hand was Queen Olyndra's red crown. Below the balcony, the people had gathered.
The queen stood beside him.
“Speak your oath,” the queen said.
Elian gazed at the people without emotion.
“I will protect all your memories.”
The people cheered.
But behind his back, Elian held someone's hand.
Lyra.
“Don't be afraid,” Lyra whispered.
Elian lowered his head slightly. “I've planted a fake petal in the palace.”
“What if the queen finds it?”
“The rebellion will begin.”
The vision changed again.
Elian stood alone in an underground chamber. Before him lay thousands of Black Petals.
The Black-Eyed Young Man emerged from one of the petals.
“I can help you,” he said.
“At what price?”
“Give me your body.”
Elian shook his head. “No.”
“Then give me your name.”
Elian fell silent.
Then he drove a knife into his own chest.
Lyra ran in and screamed.
“ELIAN!”
The vision shattered.
Elian fell to the floor, clutching his chest. Lyra immediately embraced him.
“Don't look anymore,” she said. “Please, don't remember anything else.”
Elian stared at her, his face pale.
“I did all of that.”
“You did it to save the people.”
“I killed myself.”
“Because you wanted to stop the curse.”
Elian studied Lyra's face for a long time.
“And you still stayed by my side?”
Lyra nodded.
“I made a promise.”
“What promise?”
Lyra smiled sadly.
“I'll find you, even if you forget me a thousand times.”
For the first time, Elian touched Lyra's hand without hesitation.
“I may not remember your name,” he said. “But my heart is always afraid of losing you.”
The Black-Eyed Young Man watched them from near the door.
“It's too late,” he said.
“What do you mean?” Lyra asked.
He pointed at the Black Petal on Elian's forehead.
“That petal isn't restoring his memories.”
The cracks in the floor widened. Beyond the glass, Queen Olyndra's shadow appeared.
“That petal is choosing a new owner.”
Lyra stood. “A new owner?”
The young man looked at her.
“Not Elian.”
The Black Petal tore free from Elian's forehead and flew toward Lyra.
The moment the petal touched her palm, every pane of glass in the room shattered at once.
From beyond the shards of glass came Queen Olyndra's voice.
“Now, flower girl, remember who you truly are.”