They'd been walking for two days since the encounter at the lodge, moving east toward the old merchant road that Veyra claimed once led to a ruined city called Kireth Hollow, abandoned during the Flame Purge. Kael wasn't sure what they'd find there, but she said it was a ruined city the Church tried to erase after the last Flame Purge.
That was enough for him.
He adjusted his satchel again, shifting the weight of the shard. Even wrapped in pine resin and cloth, it burned cold against his side. Although not painful anymore, it was quiet, without any whispering.
Veyra paused ahead, crouched low near a ridge of fractured stone. Her hair was pulled back in a tight braid, and her spear rested lightly against her shoulder, ready.
Kael stepped up behind her and whispered, "What is it?"
"These are tracks," she murmured. "But it doesn't belong to deer... or wolves."
She pointed with her gloved hand to the snow ahead, and a clawed paw-print could be seen, but they were wider. He counted five on each print.
"Whatever it is," she said, "it's hunting."
They kept moving, but much quieter and alert.
Kael tried to mimic her footsteps, but she moved like flowing water, and he moved like a bucket of rocks. The wind whistled through the trees above them, and the cold bit through his clothes. He kept one hand on the handle of the knife strapped at his belt, an old thief's tool that had saved his life more than once.
Then, they heard a rustle up ahead and Veyra signalled to stop immediately.
"Look," she whispered.
He followed her gaze. At first, all he saw was snow. Then he saw some movement, a wide shape gliding between the trees, low to the ground, quiet.
The Skyrend, known for their sharp claws that rip everything apart.
It had a long, stretched body like a panther's, covered in pale, oily fur that shimmered with frost. Its head was skull-like, jaw too wide, with antler-like horns growing backwards. Its claws dug deep furrows in the snow.
"Is it hunting us?" Kael asked quietly.
Veyra nodded once.
They tried to move back, slowly and quietly.
Then the monster's head snapped towards them, and it charged.
A blur of white and black leapt from the ridge. Snow exploded around them as the Skyrend crashed through the brush.
Kael rolled aside, knife drawn. Veyra was already up, spear in her hand.
The monster came down hard. Its claws struck stones and shattered bark, snarling like it had a grudge against them.
Veyra didn't flinch.
She charged at it.
The spear flashed like lightning, a sweep that knocked its claw aside, then a stab aimed for its eye. The monster twisted, and the spear only nicked its brow.
Blood trickled down its brow.
The skyrend roared and leapt at her, aiming for her neck.
She rolled under its jaws, struck its leg with the butt of the spear, then slashed a line across its ribs. Blood sprayed on the snow, dying it red.
Kael watched, stunned. She fought like she was dancing, neither random nor desperate. She moved with great precision, fluid motion.
But the creature was faster than it looked.
It spun and struck her, its claws scratching her arm. She hissed, dropped to a knee, but used the fall to drive the spear upward through its lower jaw.
The Skyrend reeled with pain.
Kael saw his chance.
He darted in, low. His knife flashed, a quick stab deep into the joint behind its shoulder.
The monster screamed.
It spun toward him.
'Too fast'
It knocked him flat, breath blasted from his lungs. It pinned him with one claw, pressing into his chest.
He struggled and couldn't breathe.
Its jaws opened wide.
Then Veyra's spear burst through its throat from behind.
The creature froze and shuddered. It collapsed sideways into the snow, twitching once before going still.
For a while, Kael just lay there, staring up at the grey sky, his heart beating fast and loud like war drums.
Then Veyra's voice broke through to him.
"You alright?"
He nodded, still panting.
"You moved smart and quick," she said. "That's what keeps you alive."
"I didn't even think."
"Good, Thinking gets you killed when it's already at your throat."
She offered him a hand, and he took it, rising shakily.
He wiped the blood from his knife and slid it back into its sheath.
For the first time since this all began, he felt like he'd earned something. Not power, not fate, but just a piece of himself back.
Somewhere deep in the Northern lands.
In a dimly lit chamber, carved deep into a ruined temple. Candles burned with grey fire, casting shadows that flicker about.
Around a stone altar stood six robed figures of the Broken Sun, all masked and quiet, except one.
A woman in a robe stitched with ancient runes and burning thread stood at the head. Her title was Ash-Mother Vaele, and she spoke only when signs demanded it.
Today, they did.
"I have seen the dream," she said, her voice low and calm. "The shard awakens... not fully... not yet... but the will has stirred."
A kneeling figure looked up. "He spoke through it?"
"No. It spoke through him... but not fully."
"Not yet," Ash-Mother Vaele agreed. "But the boy carries it, it stirs around him. The Pale Wards cracked when he screamed, and the sky flinched."
"Should we retrieve him?"
She shook her head. "No. The Crown does not rise by force. If we reach too early, we snap the thread."
"Then what do we do?"
Ash-Mother Vaele raised her hand. Her fingers glowed faintly, a symbol of an eye carved into her palm.
"We send the Veilborn. Let them follow. Let them see."
Far to the west, inside a sanctum near the Kesthryn Border, three figures stood around a flame-wreathed bowl carved from volcanic glass. Their faces were covered by mirrored masks; their robes shimmered with gold-thread doctrine.
One of them, taller than the other two, voice as sharp as frost, lifted a fragment of mirror shard, tied to the original relic, locked beneath the First Spire.
The others began to chant.
Words, low and forbidden.
Glyphs burned around the fragmented mirror. The snow outside the chamber hissed and melted. The fragmented mirror spun and then froze, pointing east.
The leader of the group nodded.
"Kael," she said. "The thief walks toward the Kireth Hollow."
Another spoke, a man's voice. "Orders?"
"Send a Seeker Cell, silent and fast."
They turned and vanished from the sanctified hall, their silhouettes disappearing into firelight and incense smoke.