Chapter 106 The Second Layer — The Memory That Breaks
The second layer of Milo’s rewritten world was a lie.
A beautiful, cruel lie.
It looked like home.
Not the palace. Not the Emberwild. Not the Rift.
It looked like the little cottage we used to hide in when we were kids—before the flames, before the magic, before the world took our mother's life, before we went on the run. Before Aeloria. Before all the magical issues and the villains and the choices to do better. This cottage was our home, our refuge, our place that we belonged in together.
As I moved closer to the cottage, I noticed.
The door was open.
The hearth was lit.
The one room was cozy, with the bed pushed against one of the walls. The small two-seater couch sat in what would be the centre of the room, and the tiny kitchenette was behind.
And Milo was laughing. Here, he always saw the bright side of things. It was only after arriving in Aeloria that the darkness began to take hold.
I froze.
He was younger here—barely five. His hair was too long, his scarf too big, his smile too real.
He was sitting on the floor, surrounded by books and a car with its components, trying to put it back together again.
It was failing spectacularly.
“Mo!” he called, “Help me fix my car, please!”
I laughed.
I couldn’t help it.
It was him.
The real him.
Before the Void.
Before the pain.
Before everything broke.
Thessa stepped beside me, her voice low. “This is a trap.”
“I know,” I whispered.
Kael peeked through the window. “If this is a trap, it’s a very cozy one. I want to be emotionally manipulated with tea and biscuits, please.”
Zeke was already checking the perimeter. “Gerald doesn’t like it. He’s growling.”
Gerald bleated.
Quacknor flared his wings and dive-bombed a flowerpot. It exploded in feathers.
Yuel was scribbling again. “This layer is built from suppressed memory. It’s not just a trap—it’s a test.”
Ellira and Lira were already sketching a containment glyph.
Aine stood behind me, her voice calm. “If you go in, you might not come back the same.”
“I haven’t been the same since he left,” I said.
And I stepped inside.
The warmth hit me first.
Then the smell—cinnamon, ink, and something vaguely on fire.
Milo looked up.
And smiled.
“Big sister,” he said.
My heart cracked.
He hadn’t called me that in years.
Not since the Rift.
Not since the day I chose the flame and he chose to follow me.
I knelt beside him.
“You remember this?”
He nodded. “I remember everything. That’s the problem.”
He held up the car.
It was glowing faintly.
“I was trying to protect you,” he said. “Even then.”
“I know.”
“You always protected me.”
“I tried.”
He looked at me.
And for a moment—
He was mine again. These moments made me the happiest in the darkest times.
Then the room shifted.
The walls cracked.
The books burned.
And Milo stood.
Older now.
Taller.
Colder.
The black flame in his hand pulsed.
“You left me,” he said.
“I came back.”
“You always come back too late. Always looking to belong when in actual fact you belonged to me.”
The others entered behind me.
Thessa drew her blade. “Here we go again.”
Kael sighed. “I miss the car version. He was adorable.”
Zeke raised his crossbow. “He’s not aiming it at us yet. That’s progress.”
Yuel muttered, “The ley lines are bending. He’s rewriting the memory.”
Ellira and Lira activated the glyph.
Aine stepped forward. “Milo, this isn’t you.”
He laughed.
It was hollow.
“This is exactly me. Why don’t you understand that? Why don’t you understand that this is me, this was always meant to be me!”
The room shattered.
And we were in the ruins of the cottage.
The cottage by the beach.
A year after our mother’s death.
The year I found Aeloria.
After I left.
Milo stood in the ashes now.
“You promised you’d never leave.”
“I didn’t have a choice. Aeloria was calling to me.”
“You always have a choice. Wasn’t that what this was all about, choices?”
He raised his hand.
The black flame surged.
And the ground cracked.
I stepped forward.
“I was trying to protect you.”
“You were trying to be a hero.”
“I was trying to be your sister.”
“You failed.”
The words hit harder than any spell.
I staggered.
Thessa caught me.
Kael muttered, “Okay, so we’re doing the emotional gut-punch phase now. Cool. Love that.”
Zeke whispered, “He doesn’t mean it.”
Yuel said nothing.
Ellira and Lira held the glyph steady.
Aine stepped between us.
“Milo, stop.”
He looked at her.
And for the first time—
He didn’t flinch.
“You’re not my family.”
The flame surged.
The glyph shattered.
And the bond broke.
I fell to my knees.
The scarf slipped from my hand.
He didn’t pick it up.
He just turned away.
And walked into the Void.
The room faded.
The warmth vanished.
And the memory was gone.
We stood in silence.
Thessa sheathed her blade.
Kael sat on a broken beam. “Well. That sucked.”
Zeke helped Gerald up. “I would say that he has completely embraced the void now.”
Yuel closed his journal. “He’s not Milo anymore.”
Ellira and Lira didn’t speak.
Quacknor landed beside me.
Aine knelt.
“He’s not gone,” she said.
“He’s not mine, he isn’t Milo,” I whispered.
The Rift pulsed.
The Void whispered.
And the stars dimmed.
Milo was gone; he wasn’t my brother, he wasn’t the shadow wielder, he wasn’t the holder of the black flame. Now he was nothing but the void’s apprentice; he was the bad that was going to go bump in the night. The Milo now was what we dreaded. How do you fight something that wore your brother's face? How do I get the brother that I loved back?
“He loves you, Mo. Remember that deep in your heart that he loves you,” Aine whispers as she moves back towards the others.
“I love him,” I whisper, “I love you, Milo. Please remember that”
“Did you love me enough to stay?”