"Why aren't you asleep, boy?" The voice echoed through the crumbling halls of the castle, low and gravelly, like stone grinding against stone. The boy turned, his eyes wide, reflecting the pale shimmer of moonlight that filtered through shattered stained glass. The speaker was a man cloaked in tattered robes, his face half-hidden beneath a hood stitched with celestial runes. "That fool Sora cast a spell to put everyone in this castle into a deep slumber," the man continued, stepping closer. "And yet here you stand, awake. Why?" The boy hesitated. He didn’t know. He had awoken in the Hall of Echoes, surrounded by bodies frozen in time—servants, knights, even the Queen herself, their dreams stitched shut by Sora’s final incantation. "They say celestial maidens came to take him away," the man muttered, almost to himself. "Wreathed in light, singing in tongues no mortal should hear. He did real of destruction—that much I am sure of." Th...
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