They traveled through twilight.
The further they pushed into the Jyothra Realm, the more warped the sky became. It never turned dark—just a constant dull amber glow, like a sun had bled into the clouds and never fully set.
Talin huffed, brushing aside thorned vines that hissed softly. "You ever notice how everything in this place tries to murder you politely?"
"Quiet," Raen said. "We're close."
Nira stepped ahead, rune compass in hand. "The second shard site should be just past that ridge. I'm getting distortion echoes."
Raen unsheathed his sword.
Not the Veinblade. Not here.
He used his whisper-forged steel—tempered by memories, not madness.
They crept over the final rise…
And froze.
Below them, in a hollow ring of black crystal growths, stood six Crimson Fang disciples, robes tattered and faces painted with blood sigils. At the center was a floating obsidian fragment, larger than the one before—this one cracked open, bleeding red mist into the sky.
At its base, kneeling, was a Fang priest—a tall, masked figure with pale arms etched in script scars. He held a dagger and chanted in an old dialect:
> "Blood of the hollow. Breath of the forgotten. Let the shard remember its pain."
As Raen watched, one of the disciples slit his palm and touched the shard.
The entire forest shuddered.
Talin whispered, "That shard's being fed. They're corrupting it."
Nira's rune compass cracked.
Raen stood. "We move now."
---
💥 The Ambush Begins
They descended silently—until Talin stepped on a brittle root.
Snap.
The Fang priest's masked head turned instantly. "Company."
Raen leapt down first.
Whisper Form: Flow Cutter.
His blade slashed a crimson disciple in half before his feet hit the ground. Talin followed, curved blade spinning like a cyclone, scattering two others. Nira hurled a seal—exploding midair and lighting the ritual circle aflame.
But the priest was unfazed.
He stood amid the fire, raising his dagger. "Too late. The shard awakens."
The obsidian chunk pulsed.
Veins cracked across its surface, and a limb began to form—faint, misty, shaped like a massive blade-arm, hovering above them all.
Talin cursed. "Tell me that's not its final form!"
Raen charged the priest.
Their blades met—steel versus ritual iron—but the priest moved like smoke, dodging every swing with unnatural grace. His voice whispered beneath every parry:
"You carry the Vein's echo. That means we can find the others—through you."
Raen twisted low and stabbed through the priest's thigh.
The man howled—but did not fall. Instead, he threw his bleeding arm against the shard's surface.
"Then take my blood, and REMEMBER!"
The shard screamed.
Mist exploded outward, sending all of them flying back.
Raen rolled to his feet, coughing, only to find the shard floating higher—its blade-arm fully formed.
The second fragment had awakened.
Not a relic.
Not a memory.
A beast.
And it was angry.
---
📍 Meanwhile — Watching from a Rift Above
Commander Seyra of the Unspooling Vein crouched on a suspended branch of black crystal, her eyes glowing behind her mask.
"Excellent," she whispered. "Let the shard consume both sides. Then I'll harvest whoever survives."
She vanished into the mist.