---
Chapter 13: The Fracture
The cavern convulsed as if alive. Cracks rippled through the walls, veins of light bleeding from within. Each tremor sent loose stone crashing, the echoes carrying like the growl of a waking beast.
The rift split wider. Not just a wound in stone, but in existence itself. It pulsed between blinding white and bottomless black, two opposing forces tearing at the same seam. The air warped with every beat, pressing on Kaelen's chest until his lungs screamed for breath.
Lysera stumbled, her bow clattering against the floor before she snatched it back. Her sharp composure—so constant since their meeting—fractured. Kaelen saw the tremor in her hands, the widening of her eyes.
"Kaelen," she breathed, voice raw. "That… that shouldn't exist."
But the rift paid her no heed.
The whispers swelled, rising above the roar of falling stone. They no longer teased from a distance; they bellowed in his skull, voices layered upon voices, promises wrapped in commands.
Bind. Breach. Release. Devour.
The sigil on his palm burned with every word, its golden light threading into the air like veins reaching for the rift. Kaelen staggered forward, pulled as though invisible chains had hooked into his soul.
Shadowborne watched with a predator's delight. His cracked armor rattled as he stepped closer, his grin crooked and fevered.
"Do you feel it?" His voice reverberated unnaturally, as if the cavern itself spoke with him. "This is no curse, no burden. It is power… the kind gods tremble to face."
The rift howled.
A hand tore through—if it could be called a hand. Smoke, flame, and memory woven into claws that scraped reality itself. The stench of burning stone filled the cavern as the thing pushed further, dragging with it a shape too vast to fit through.
Lysera's shout cut through the chaos. "Kaelen, move! We have to leave!"
But his body would not obey. His legs rooted in place, his arm drawn toward the rift. The sigil bound him to this moment.
And in that binding, visions erupted—futures unspooled like threads. He saw cities torn apart, oceans rising to swallow continents, skies raining fire. At the heart of it all stood a figure crowned in flame and shadow.
Himself.
Shadowborne's grin faltered at the sight of the claw pressing through, yet he still spread his arms wide, drunk on the madness. "Do it, Kaelen! Open the gate. Cast off their chains. Let eternity itself bow before you!"
Kaelen's pulse thundered. The whispers dug deeper, urging him to surrender. But then—
Lysera's hand caught his arm. Firm, unyielding.
Her voice steadied, even as the cavern collapsed around them. "You are not their vessel. You are not their key. Choose as Kaelen… not as their pawn."
For the first time, her words cut through the storm.
Kaelen raised his hand, the sigil blazing like molten fire. He forced its light against the rift, every breath ripping through his chest. The claw shrieked, its sound a thousand voices breaking at once.
The cavern quaked. Shadowborne roared in protest, hurling himself backward before the collapse consumed him.
Kaelen clenched his fist, pouring every shred of will into the mark. The light erupted. The rift writhed. And with a sound like the world itself tearing in two—
It snapped shut.
Silence fell.
Dust rained down. The cavern groaned but held. Only Kaelen's labored breaths and Lysera's trembling exhale filled the void.
He lowered his hand. The sigil still glowed faintly, alive, restless. He could feel it pulsing, not silent, but caged.
Lysera stepped closer, her hand still on his arm. "You chose," she whispered.
Kaelen stared at the fading glow, unease gnawing at him. He hadn't silenced the voices. Only delayed them.
And somewhere beyond the Veil, something remembered his name.
---