The cliff vibrated under Vaelreth's boots, Lyssa's rune pulsing like a heartbeat in the stone. Her amber eyes locked on him, unyielding, while shadows of the Veiled Order crept closer, their cloaks blending with the night. Vaelreth's grin was a spark in the dark, his fingers itching to break the trap. Jorath crouched behind him, muttering warnings, and Kaelith's dagger gleamed, ready to carve answers from flesh. The air crackled with magic and menace, and Vaelreth felt alive.
"You're outplayed, Shadow," Lyssa said, her voice silk over steel. "The Starvein's not your toy."
Vaelreth laughed, low and sharp. "Toys are boring. I prefer fires."
He didn't wait for her reply. His hand pressed against the cliff, whispering a word that tasted like iron. The rune he'd sparked fought Lyssa's, their magics clashing in a scream of light and heat. The ground bucked, throwing Jorath to his knees. Kaelith steadied herself, cursing, but Vaelreth stood firm, his smile a blade. He wasn't here to win—just to change the game.
Lyssa's veil shimmered, her rune faltering. "Fool," she spat. "You'll wake what shouldn't be touched."
"Good," Vaelreth said, stepping closer, his voice a taunt. "I'm tired of sleeping worlds."
The Veiled Order moved, four figures emerging from the shadows, their hands glowing with runes of their own. Vaelreth's pulse thrummed—not fear, but thrill. They were good, disciplined, but discipline was predictable. He needed chaos, and he needed it now.
"Kaelith," he murmured, not looking back. "The one on the left. Make it loud."
She didn't hesitate. Her dagger flew, a silver streak that caught the nearest figure in the shoulder. The man screamed, his rune collapsing, and the others faltered, their focus breaking. Vaelreth seized the moment, his fingers dancing, waking another rune buried in the cliff. It wasn't his—older, wilder, a relic of a war nobody remembered. The stone split, a fissure racing toward Lyssa.
She dove aside, her veil tearing, revealing a face sharp as a blade, scarred but not old. "You'll regret this," she hissed, her hands weaving a new rune, faster than Vaelreth expected.
The air tightened, a binding spell wrapping around him like chains. His grin didn't fade, but his breath caught. She was strong—stronger than Varn's lackeys, stronger than most mages he'd broken. He pushed against the spell, his own magic straining, and felt something shift in the mountain itself, a deeper hum, like a beast stirring.
"Jorath," Vaelreth snapped, his voice tight. "Talk. Now."
Jorath scrambled to his feet, eyes wild. "The keepers aren't just mages. They're bound to it—the Starvein. It speaks to them. It knows you."
Vaelreth's laugh was half-choked, the binding spell squeezing. "Flattering."
Kaelith lunged at Lyssa, breaking her focus. The spell loosened, and Vaelreth broke free, his rune roaring to life. The fissure widened, swallowing one of the Veiled Order's men. The others scattered, and Lyssa retreated, her amber eyes promising a reckoning.
"Run!" Vaelreth barked, shoving Jorath toward the path. Kaelith followed, her glare hotter than the rune's sparks. The mountain groaned, stones falling, but Vaelreth didn't look back. He felt the Starvein's hum, not just in the rock but in his blood, like a call he hadn't meant to answer.
They stumbled onto a ridge, the Veiled Order's shadows gone but their threat lingering. Jorath gasped, clutching his side. "You don't know what you've started, Shadow."
Vaelreth's smile was wild, dangerous. "I don't start things, heretic. I make them interesting."
But as they fled into the dark, the Starvein's hum followed, and Vaelreth wondered, just for a moment, if he'd finally found a game he couldn't control.